H  'Z  6-  7 
,S7 

'  A  •  -:  /  . 


J 


Ir 


p  -  • 


1 


THE  DESTEOYEE. 


‘iWill  you  be  a  fool,  or  keep  your  onyu  counsels?” 


THE 


Spider  and  the  Fly; 

^  OR, 


TRICKS,  TRAPS,  AND  PITFALLS 


OF 


City  Life. 


ONE  WHO  KNOWS. 


“  Will  you  walk  into  my  parlor  ?  ”  said  a  spider  to  a  fiy, 

“  It  is  the  prettiest  parlor  that  ever  you  did  spy. 

The  way  into  my  parlor  is  up  a  winding  stair. 

And  I  have  many  pretty  things  to  show  when  you  are  there." 


NEW  YORK: 

C.  MILLER  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 

1873. 


boston  college  LIBKAKX 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 

W 


t  u 


\ 


4 


INTRODUCTION. 


*'God  made  them  lambs :  we  men  are  wolves/^  was  the  remark 
of  a  dying  debauchee  to  a  profligate  friend  who  was  endeavor* 
ing  to  assuage  the  former's  remorse  over  visions  of  wrecks  of 
female  virtue  he  had  made,  by  lightly  arguing  that  his  own 
experience  should  teach  him  that  woman  was  all  unworthy  such 
compunctions,  since  she  was  ever  ready  to  yield  herself  to  the 
importunate.  “  God  made  them  lambs  :  we  men  are  wolves,’" 
was  his  only  reply. 

In  the  above  sentence  is  given  the  philosophy  of  female  seduc¬ 
tion  ;  the  secret  reason  why  some  high-toned,  noble-hearted 
women  fall — they  were  powerless  to  the  men  they  loved. 

Woman  is  powerless  to  the  man  she  loves  ;  but  in  this  there 
is  nothing  for  him  to  glory  over — nothing  to  cover  her  with 
shame.  It  is  Nature’s  lavv ;  it  is  of  divine  appointment.  Phys¬ 
ically,  he  is  her  superior ;  and  in  judgment  and  firmness  men¬ 
tally  so.  But  with  her  subordination  comes  his  responsibility 
Woman  is  God’s  greatest  trust,  as  well  as  Heaven’s  best  gift,  to 
man. 


The  most  beautiful  of  earthly  things  created  is  woman  ;’^and 
modesty  and  purity  are  among  her  sweetest  adornments.  So 
long  as  she  preserves  these  angelic  attributes,  she  commands  the 
esteem  of  the  good,  the  respect  of  the  bad  ;  but„  parting  with 
them,  she  is  like  a  star  changed  to  darkness — she  falls  as  no 
other  created  thing  can  fall. 

Every  living  creature  has  a  defence  given  it ;  and  fear,  timid¬ 
ity,  and  shame  are  the  natural  safeguards  of  woman.  The  true 
woman  instinctively  shrinks  from  the  evil  approaches  of  man. 
To  tlie  citadel  of  her  purity  there  is  but  one  unwalled  entrance — 
'  She  must  love ;  she  must  have  something  to'worsfil^ 

to  cling  to  and  adorn,  or  her  earthly  mission — to  bless — would 


not  be  fulfilled ;  her  very  weaknesses  demand  that  she  have  some 
one  to  lean  upon  and  coufide  in,  possessed  of  attribues  the  opposite 
of  her  own — one  able  to  sustain  and  protect  her — and  for  this 
being,  when  the  object  of  her  first  affections,  she  is  ever  willing  to 
leave  father,  mother,  sister,  brother ;  to  sacrifice  home  and  the 
world,  and  sometimes — too  often — her  heaven  and  her  God.* 

Woman,  then,  is  as  God  created  her — subordinate  to  man ; 
and  he  who  gains  and  honorably  and  justly  wears  a  pure  wo¬ 
man’s  love,  has  secured  to  himself  the  greatest  of  earthly  bless¬ 
ings  ;  while  he  who  wins  only  to  blast  and  destroy,  by  the  very 
act  so  distorts  his  own  vision  that  earth’s  fairest  flowers  seem  to 
him  but  contemptible  weeds.  He  curses  where  to  bless  w'ould 
re-act  upon  himself,  and  creates  in  his  own  bosom  a  hell  when 
he  might  have  drawn  around  himself  a  heaven. 

3]he  most  blighiipg,  detestable,  and  leastpiinished  of^  all 
villaIngggfEjrsvstematicjedJUier.l’^--Hifce-th6^unkard.  his  appe¬ 
tite  feeds  upon  itself ;  like  the  foul  wolf,  he  hunts  for  the  mere 
pleasure  of  destroying.  His  crimes  go  mostly  unpunished,  be¬ 
cause  exposure  would  but  heap  additional  anguish  upon  his 
victim’s  head  ;  privacy  and  delicacy  prevent  the  line  of  his  guilt 
being  satisfactorily  drawn,  and  consequently  the  public  and  the 
law  seem  indifferent  to  his  sins  ;  it  is  only  when  some  startling 

♦  It  is  proper  to  qualify  this  and  a  previous  assertion  by  stating  that  it  is 
^  meant  to  apply  mostly  to  toung  women  who  have  had  but  little  knowledge 
of  the  world— the  fact  that  most  cases  of  seduction  occur  when  the  man  is 
far  in  advance  in  years  of  his  victim,  goes  to  sustain  the  hypothesis  pre* 
sented. 

t  Base  and  soulless  as  is  the  deliberate  seducer,  there  is  yet  one  meaner 
villain  extant — the  one  who  from  malice,  jealousy,  or  revenge,  blasts  the 
reputation  of  an  innocent  girl  by  anonymous  slander.  The  following  is  a 
caee  in  point ;  and  the  cowardly  scoundrel  it  refers  to  deserves,  when  dis¬ 
covered,  to  be  driven,  like  Matt.  Ward,  beyond  the  pale  of  civilized  society. 

“  A  young  lady  of  estimable  character,  who  had  for  some  months  been 
teaching  the  school  in  the  Townley  District,  was,  not  long  ago,  discharged 
by  the  trustees  on  account  of  .accusations  against  her  virtue  contained  in 
an  anonymous  letter  received  by  one  of  their  number.  It  has  since  been 
ascertained  that  the  charges  were  utterly  false,  but  the  poor  girl’s  reputa¬ 
tion  will  probably  never  be  entirely  purged  of  the  stains^ which  were  thus  s© 
cruelly  cast  upon  it.” 


•  t 

Vll 

act  of  merited  vengeance,  like  to  the  Beauchamp  or  Heberton 
tragedy,  proving  by  its  very  desperation  that  a  deep,  foul,  pre¬ 
meditated  wrong  has  been  perpetrated,  and  at  which,  as  in  the 
latter  case,  the  people  and  the  press  cry  out,  “TAe  argument  is 
conclusive;  justice,  not  law,  for  the  actors,^*  that  society  is  enabled 
to  vindicate  itself  as  the  willing  punisher  of  Virtue’s  destroyer, 
and  judicial  authority,  unavoidably  blind  to  the  first  outrage,  is 
forced  with  seeming  reluctance  to  overlook  the  second. 

Death  is  a  punishment  for  the  murderer  ;  the  Penitentiary  for 
the  mutilator  of  another’s  body ;  the  State  Prison  for  the  robber 
and  burglar  ;  and  imprisonment  for  whoever  obtains  goods  un¬ 
der  false  pretences.  What,  then,  does  that  man  deserve  who, 
under  honorable  pretences,  intrudes  himself  upon  the  domestic 
circle — casts  his  toils  around  its  brightest  ornaments — deceives, 
crushes,  and  marks  with  a  shameful,  indelible  stain  a  father’s 
hope  and  mother’s  pride ;  who,  for  the  gratification  of  an  idle 
hour,  destroys  what  has  cost  others  geai’s  of  toil  and  solicitude 
to  rear;  and  sends  forth  to  curse  the  world  one  who  otherwise 
might  have  passed  a  happy,  useful  existence  ? 

Manifestly  the  seducer’s  crime  equals  all  the  above-named 
combined  ;  and  equally  evident  is  it,  that  if  legislation  cannot 
satisfactorily  reach  and  commensurately  punish  the  seducer, 
neither  will  public  opinion  at  this  time  suffer  the  law  to  deal 
harshly  with  the  man  who  avenges  a  daughter’s  or  a  sister’s 
wrongs,  when  Ihe  circumstances  of  the  case  unmistakably  evince 
the  chastisement  is  just.  No  jury  can  be  found  to  convict  so 
unhappy,  so  unfortunate  an  offender,  so  long  as  it  remains  evi¬ 
dent  that  Fear,  not  of  public  justice,  but  of  private  i-etribution, 
is,  as  noAv,  almost  the  sole  safeguard  of  society  against  that  un¬ 
principled  ravager  of  domestic  peace,  the  Systematic  Seducer. 

The  Heberton  case,  above  referred  to,*justifies  this  assertion  ; 
Heberton  was  a  wealthy  rou6 — a  professed  debauchee  ;  and  pub¬ 
licly  boasted  of  his  triumph  over  one  particular  victim,  a  school 
girl,  and  daughter  of  a  Avealthy  Philadelphia  merchant ;  the  fa¬ 
ther  demanded  marriage  to  cover  the  offence,  and  the  brother 
threatened  death  as  the  alternative  of  refusal.  Heberton  laughed 


■viii 


them  to  scorn,  at  first ;  but  afterwards,  becoming  intimidated, 
secreted  himself,  and  in  attempting  to  escape  to  a  vessel  bound 
for  Europe,  was  met  in  his  carriage  on  board  the  ferry  boat,  and 
shot  dead  by  the  avenging  brother ;  the  latter  immediately  sur¬ 
rendered  himself,  was  soon  tried,  and  the  jury  acquitted  him  ; 
the  crowds  which  thronged  the  court  house  and  the  adjacent 
streets  endorsing  the  verdict  with  loud  cheers, ’and  the  press 
throughout  the  country  sustaining  the  righteous  judgment. 

The  other  affair  referred  to  had  a  different  termination ;  not, 
as  the'writer  believes,  because  the  seducer  was  less  guilty  in  the 
eyes  of  the  community,  than  Heberton,  but  principally  because 
Beauchamp  stooped  to  secret  assassination,  instead  of  openly 
and  boldly  challenging  the  world  to  witness  the  deed,  and  thus, 
as  it  were,  throwing  himself  upon  its  judgment  and  its  mercy. 

Col.  Sharp,  in  1826,  Attorney- General  of  Kentucky,  a  man  of 
prepossessing  manners  and  winning  address,  was  the  seducer  of 
Miss  Cooke,  an  orphan  girl,  universally  admired,  until  her  mis¬ 
fortune  universally  respected,  (even  then  heartily  pitied,)  and  as 
the  sequel  shows,  possessed  of  qualities  which,  under  a  more 
favorable  initiation,  would  have  made  her  worthy  the  hand  of 
any  hero. 

Some  time  after  this  circumstance  became  public,  Beauchamp, 
then  a  student  at  law,  and  a  generous,  noble-hearted,  impetuous 
young  man,  incited  by  a  chivalrous  feeling,  sought  out  Miss 
Cooke  at  the  plantation  to  which  she  had  retired  to  bury  herself 
from  the  world,  and  though  then  but  nineteen,  took  upon  him¬ 
self  the  task  of  avenging  her  wrongs,  at  that  time  the  theme  of 
every  tongue. 

He  managed  to  obtain  a  private  interview  with  Col.  Sharp  at 
the  river’s  side ;  announced  himself  as  the  avenger  whom  Miss 
Cooke  had  promised  Col.  Sharp  when  she  last  forbade  him  her 
presence,  should  some  day  confront  him ;  challenged  him  to 
fight ;  and  when  words  could  not  provoke  Col.  Sharp  to  select 
weapons  with  which  to  defend  himself,  Beauchamp  struck  him 
in  the  face,  and  finally  kicked  the  coward  from  the  field.  Col. 
Sharp  protested  he  could  not  fight  in  such  a  cause  ;  he  studiously 


IX 


avoided  Beauchamp,  and  in  no  possible  way  could  the  latter  in¬ 
cite  him  to  an  encounter. 

Three  or  four  years  after  their  first  interview,  Beauchamp 
married  Miss  Cooke ;  and  even  at  that  date  so  strong  was  the 
public  sentiment  against  Col.  Sharp,  and  so  much  was  he  an¬ 
noyed  by  it,  that  in  the  hope  to  allay  its  force  he  had  the  temer¬ 
ity  to  commit  a  greater  outrage  almost  than  the  first,  by  origi¬ 
nating  a  story  that  the  birth  of  a  certain  negro  child  furnished 
unmistakeable  evidence  that  he  could  not  have  been  guilty  of  the 
crime  towards  Miss  Cooke  that  he  was  charged  with.  The 
bounds  of  human  endurance  were  then  passed,  and  Col.  Sharp’s 
fate  sealed. 

Beauchamp  and  his  wife  now  resolved  to  delay  retribution  no 
longer  ;  but  the  happy  life — tinged  but  by  one  bitter  thought — 
which  they  had  latterly  been  leading,  made  earthly  existence 
sweet ;  and  though  Beauchamp  would  have  willingly  sacrificed 
his  life  on  the  altar  of  his  own  and  his  wife’s  injured  honor,  she 
who  had  once  made  him  swear  to  avenge  her  wrongs,  as  the 
price  of  her  hand — who  had  pleaded  that  so  long  as  Col.  Sharp 
lived  she  could  not  feel  worthy  to  become  his  wife — now,  with  a 
true  woman’s  affection,  made  him  again  vow  not  to  expose  his 
life  to  the  law  for  the  sake  of  a  cowardly  wretch  who  fled  his 
presence,  and*  basely  shrunk  from  giving  him  any  chance  what¬ 
ever  for  satisfaction  or  redress. 

And  here  was  the  great  mistake  which  no  after  Roman  firm¬ 
ness  or  sacrifice  on  their  part  could  retrieve  ;  the  world  detests 
the  skulking  assassin,  but  in  its  secret  heart  applauds  whoever 
with  sufficient  motive  rids  it  of  a  tyrant  or  social  monster,  and 
who,  by  going  to  judgment  along  with  his  victims,  as  did  the  Sam¬ 
son  of  Scripture,  or  by  surrendering  themselves  to  certain  death, 
as  did  Charlotte  Corday,  prove  Conclusively  to  the  world  that  it 
was  no  petty  personal  malice,  or  hope  of  earthly  advantage  that 
incited  them  to  the  deed. 

Beauchamp  killed  Col.  Sharp ;  calling  him  to  his  door,  late  at 
night,  showing  him  his  face,  and  then  striking  so  sure  a  blow 
that  he  died  instantly ;  and  though  so  well  had  Beauchamp 


« 


X 


planned  everything  to  escape  detection,  that  nothing  but  perjury 
could  link  out  a  chain  of  even  circumstantial  evidence  against 
him,  yet  so  powerful  and  unscrupulous  were  the  friends  of  Col. 
Sharp,  that  he  was  convicted  of  murder,  and  died  upon  the  gal¬ 
lows  ;  his  wife  perished  by  her  own  hand  on  the  same  day  as 
her  husband,  (in  fact  was  dying  and  insensible  as  he  quitted 
her  side,)  and  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  him.  And 
however  deplorable  this  termination  to  their  sad  career,  and 
however  questionable  the  commission  of  suicide,  under  any  cir¬ 
cumstances  whatever,  the  last  two  acts  of  this  terrible  drama 
seem  essential  to  evince  to  the  world  that  Col.  Sharp  was  worthy 
of  his  fate,  and  his  victim  of  her  husband’s  devotion.  At  all 
events,  the  case  presents  a  moral  we  are  bound  to  profit  by  ;  but 
not  without  paying  a  tribute  to  the  courage  and  constancy,  to 
the  touching  devotion  to  each  other  of  the  least  censurable  of 
those  who  furnished  this  costly  bequest,  and  a  prayer  to  that 
Tribunal  which  is  alone  competent  to  weigh  their  sins  that  their 
errors  may  be  mercifully  dealt  with. 

And  what  is  this  moral  ?  First,  that  seduction,  murder,  suicide, 
and  legal  homicide  all  resulted,  in  this  case,  as  they  may  in  others, 
not  altogether  from  the  want  of  principle  on  the  part  of  the  man, 
but  as  much,  perhaps,  from  lack  of  knowledge  of  her  own  danger  and 
weaknesses,  on  the  part  of  the  woman ;  and  second,  that  woman 
may  suffer  the  greatest  of  wrongs,  and  still  be  worthy  not  only 
of  our  pity  but  our  respect — that  there  is  a  vast  difference  be¬ 
tween  the  voluntarily  fallen  and  the  cast  down — for  though  we 
may  seldom  have  hopes  of  the  one,  it  is  unjust  and  unrea¬ 
sonable  to  lack  faith  in  the  other. 

The  importance  and  the  truth  of  these  two  points  it  will  be 
the  principal  object  of  this  book  to  evince  ;  but  mainly  the  first, 
for  the  obvious  reason  that 

The  prevention  of  evil  is  always  better  than  the  cure. 


0 


CHAPTER  II. 


Foreign  Counts  and  Native  Ninnies. 

As  our  shop  and  factory  girls  are  carried  away  by  romantic 
visions  of  future  husbands  in  the  form  of  young  M.  C.’s  and 
Southern  planters,  so  are  the  daughters  of  our  nabobs  be-crazed 
by  the  presence  of  pseudo-Polish  Counts  and  other  foreign  whis- 
kerandos. 

The  success  these  adventurers  meet  with  upon  the  purses  of  our 
men,  as  well  as  upon  the  virtue  and  sometimes  hand  and  fortunes 
of  our  women,  is  both  astonishing  and  mortifying ;  and  the  only 
consolation  an  American  feels  when  contemplating  this  weakness 
of  his  countrymen,  is  in  the  thought  that  no  nation  is  free  from 
a  sprinkling  of  native-born  fools,  and  that  the  dupes  here  to 
the  shallow  artifices  of  these  genteel  impostors,  are  confined  to 
our  would-be  or  cod-fish  aristocracy,  who  often  thus  meet  a  right¬ 
eous  return  for  their  silly  attempts  to  raise  themselves  above  their 
fellow  republicans  on  the  sole  strength  of  aeres  and  dollars. 

At  the  date  of  the  issue  of  this  publication,  the  De  R — e  scan¬ 
dal  is  too  fresh  in  the  minds  of  the  public  to  admit  of  a  repetition 
of  its  details  being  very  interesting;  still,  as  our  books  are  in¬ 
tended  to  be,  in  an  humble  way  (through  depicting  some  features 
in  society  not  usually  noted)  an  advantage  to  future  historians  as 
well  ps  the  present  generation,  it  is  but  fitting  that  we  give  a 
concise  history  of  this  remarkable  affair,  presenting  it  in  the  latest 
phase  the  most  recent  information  moulds  it,  and  adding  thereto 
some  comments  which  may  serve  to  enlighten  and  put  more 
effectually  on  their  guard  the  wives  and  daughters  (yes,  and 
husbands  and  fathers  themselves)  of  our  moneyed  aristocracy ;  and 
if  any  deem  it  cruel  that  this  unhappy  case  should  be  incorporated 
in  our  works,  we  can  only  say,  that  it  is  already  patent  to  the 
public,  and  that  it  is  altogether  too  peculiar,  marked  and  instruct¬ 
ive  a  case  of  successful  imposition,  to  be  either  ignored  or  covertly 
dealt  with ;  the  public  should  have  the  full  benefit  of  its  teach- 


FOREIGN  PUPPIES. 

“Kadog  enter  your  parlor,  kick  him  out  I” 


13 


ings,  and  the  chief  actor  the  notoriety  he  merits,  and  perhaps 
craves. 

Whatever  may  have  been  said  to  the  contrary,  there  is  little  if 
any  doubt  but  De  E — e  was  a  Captain  of  Zouaves  in  the  French 
army,  and  served  with  some  distinction  before  Sebastopol ;  and 
as  little  doubt  too,  that  he  was  a  dissipated  spendthrift,  discarded 
by  his  family,  and  forced  by  debt,  or  poverty,  or  both,  to  leave 
France,  from  which  country  he  came  to  this,  with  a  view  of  en¬ 
gaging  in  the  Central  American  wars;  in  short,  he  came  to 
America  a  penniless  “soldier  of  fortune,”  ready,  as  the  sequel 
shows,  to  fiUibuster  in  the  most  advantageous  way  that  should 
present  itself. 

Among  the  effects — more  or  less — which  the  gallant  Zouave 
brought  over  with  him  was  a  woman — who  had  been  living  with 
him,  after  the  fashion  of  his  country,  as  his  wife ;  whatever  the 
circumstances  which  led  this  party  to  place  herself  under  his  pro¬ 
tection,  report  speaks  of  her  as  a  very  intelligent,  lady-like  per¬ 
son  ;  and  the  fact  that  De  E — e  was  married  to  her,  after  her 
arrival  here,  evinces  that  she  possessed  no  small  degree  of  merit 
even  in  his  consideration ;  and  this  circumstance  might  redound 
to  his  credit  had  not  his  after  course  shown  that  he  did  not  hesi¬ 
tate  to  deliberately  sacrifice  this  woman  or  a  later  victim,  to  his 
passions  or  his  necessities ;  but  in  fact  it  does  not  at  all  conduce 
to  his  credit,  since  in  either  case,  it  was  but  a  French  marriage, 
the  non-committal  character  of  which  we  shall  presently  show, 
and  which  in  fact  forms  the  great  point  of  the  moral  we  are  labor¬ 
ing  to  educe  from  this  narrative. 

At  New  York,  where  he  first  landed,  De  E — e  for  some  time 
led  an  obscure  life ;  but  having  by  some  means  got  himself  pub¬ 
licly  endorsed  by  a  score  of  citizens  of  high  reputation,  including, 
if  we  mistake  not,  Gen.  Sandford  and  the  Messrs.  Harper,  he 
contrived  to  make  some  headway  in  society,  and  even  appeared 
before  the  public,  with  considerable  success,  as  a  lecturer.  But 
his  income  did  not  keep  pace  with  his  expenditures,  and  at  last, 
when  fortune  seemed  to  have  failed  him  altogether,  he  applied  for 
and  obtained  a  conditional  engagement  to  serve  under  Gen.  Hen- 
ningsen,  in  a  (at  that  time)  new  expedition  of  Walker’s,  and  left 
for  the  rendezvous  of  Henningsen’s  corjps  d'armee  in  the  South. 


M 


As  the  world  knows,  that  corps  d'armee  never  had  a  chance  to 
smell  powder ;  and  De  E — e  led  as  idle  a  life  in  Mobile  as  he  had 
for  a  time  in  New  York;  but  during  these  leisure  hours  his  brain 
was  not  idle,  and  fortune  and  a  bullet  aided  him  in  carrying  out 
the  scheme  which  has  rendered  his  name  so  notorious,  and  en¬ 
titled  him  to  “a  first-rate  notice”  in  our  “Tricks  and  Traps”  of 
large  cities. 

It  seems  his  offensive  swagger  provoked  the  indignation  of  a 
sagacious  Southerner,  wko  pronounced  him  a  chevalier  dHndvstrie, 
and  the  indignant  Zouave  challenged  the  offender  at  once  to  bat¬ 
tle.  Our  American  was  not,  however,  frightened  at  the  prospect 
of  meeting  the  Malakoff  hero,  nor  did  his  nerves  fail  him  upon 
the  field  of  battle ;  on  the  contrary,  if  report  does  not  belie  the 
facts  of  the  case,  the  steady  hand  of  the  Southerner  planted  his 
first  shot  directly  in  the  coat-breast  of  the  Frenchman,  where  it 
was  stopped  hy  a  secret  coat  of  mail.  The  Georgian,  not  satisfied 
with  this  result,  on  the  second  fire  aimed  direct  at  the  Zouave’s 
face,  and  notwithstanding  the  brazen  character  of  its  coating, 
the  ball  perforated  his  check,  and  De  E — e  fell  to  the  earth ;  not 
altogether  dissatisfied  with  this  result,  however,  was  he,  reader,  as 
he  had  arranged  for  himself  a  very  comfortable  berth  in  the  event 
of  such  a  contingency,  and  like  a  Eussian,  was  prepared  to  turn 
defeat  into  victory,  though  in  another  direction.  In  fact,  so 
opportune  was  this  shot,  so  favorably  did  it  affect  his  desperate 
fortunes,  that  some  mean  persons  have  even  insinuated  that  this 
contest  was  but  a  copy  of  the  encounters  which  our  pickpockets 
sometimes  get  up  at  steamboat  landings,  in  which  the  combatants 
stand  hard  knocks,  and  real  bloody  noses,  in  order  the  more  effect¬ 
ually  to  draw  a  crowd,  facilitate  their  operations,  and  enlarge 
their  dividends. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  De  E — e  had,  previously  to  this  affair,  made 
the  acquaintance  of  the  lady  of  a  very  wealthy  citizen  in  the 
vicinity  of  Mobile,  to  whom  (in  view  of  his  riches  and  his  ob¬ 
tuseness  to  the  dangerous  character  of  his  then  occasional  guest) 
we  shall  give  the  not  inappropriate  cognomen  of  Blunt ;  and  on 
his  way  to  the  battle-field,  the  gallant  Zouave  called  upon  this 
lady,  to  beg  of  her  the  hospitality  of  a  decent  burial  service  in 
case  he  should  be  killed,  or  due  care  and  attendance  should  he  be 


only  mortally  wounded ;  and  so  overcome  was  she  by  his  descrip¬ 
tion  of  his  castle  by  some  lake  of  Co-mo,  or  No-go,  that  no  after 
events,  however  disenchanting  their  nature,  have  been  able  to 
fade  in  the  least  the  sweet  vision  from  her  memory ;  what  more 
was  said  need  not  be  written ;  suffice  to  state  that  the  lady  eagerly 
engaged  to  see  to  the  execution  of  the  French  nobleman's  last  will 
and  testament,  or  whatever  else  he  "wished,  and  as  romantic 
events  followed  as  the  most  enthusiastic  romancer  could  desire — 
the  expatriated  nobleman  was  wounded,  he  bled,  he  fainted,  Im 
was  taken  to  the  lady’s  husband’s  mansion,  tenderly  cared  for 
and  nursed,  restored  to  health,  and  to  requite  the  kindness  thus 
bestowed  upon  him,  he  fell,  or  pretended  to  fall  in  love  with  her — 
daughter;  who,  whether  impelled  by  her  mother’s  ambitious 
views,  or  by  her  own  feelings,  returned  earnestly  his  real  or  pre¬ 
tended  passion. 

Had  Capt.  De  R — e  stopped  here  all  might  have  been  well; 
but  he  was  not  content  with  a  mere  Platonic  love,  nor  could  he 
stay  in  his  friend  Blunt’s  house  forever — no !  not  even  long  enough 
to  receive  most  desirable  remittances  from  his  large  estates  in 
France ;  so  his  only  alternative  was,  to  seize  the  game  he  had  in 
hand,  and  make  off  with  it;  this  he  did  by  eloping  with  Miss 
Blunt,  and  with  the  aid  of  Mrs.  Blunt’s  purse  (the  circumstances 
render  this  inference  unavoidable),  taking  her  to  Havanna,  then  to 
New  York,  and  finally  to  Hoboken;  where  the  mother  joined 
them,  and  the  father  soon  found  them. 

Mr.  Blunt  at  once  commenced  legal  proceedings  against  De  R — e  ; 
the  grounds  of  action  being,  the  abduction  of  his  child  and  the 
stealing  of  the  clothing  she  took  with  her ;  but,  alas !  whether  it 
is  because  the  weaker  sex  have  no  voice  in  framing  the  laws 
which  should  protect  their  dearest  interests,  or  whether,  as  some 
aver,  the  very  class  who  make  the  laws,  have  most  selfish  inter¬ 
ests  in  framing  such  as  are  of  little  account,  certain  is  it  that  in 
this  case  the  injured  parent  could  obtain  no  redress — all  he  did 
obtain  was  his  daughter,  with  whom,  and  her  mother,  he,  after 
much  trouble,  delay  and  expense,  succeeded  in  taking  homeward 
with  him.  But  his  troubles  were  not  yet  over,  the  desperate 
soldier  of  fortune  followed  him,  and  overtook  the  party  at  Savan- 


16 


nah,  and  again  the  matter  was  brought  before  the  courts,  and 
De  E, — e  again  arrested. 

It  here  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  father,  that  De  R — e  had 
actually  been  married  to  his  daughter,  and  that  she  had  traveled 
with  him  as  his  wife.  The  captain  had  all  along  averred  that  his 
marriage  with  the  transatlantic  lady,  though  consummated  here, 
was  merely  what  we  shall  style  a  French  tie^  that  is,  the  conditions 
of  the  laws  of  France  bearing  upon  such  cases  (and  which  are,  that 
to  be  binding,  all  marriages  shall  be  published  in  France,  and  the 
consent  of  the  parent  first  obtained)  not  having  been  complied 
with,  the  marriage  was  null  and  void.  So  the  noble-minded  cap¬ 
tain  had  but  to  return  to  Paris,  and  take  Miss  Blunt  with  him, 
(for  his  second  marriage  was  just  as  much  of  a  French  tie  as  the« 
first),  publish  his  intent  of  marriage,  get  Pa’s  and  Ma’s  consent, 
have  the  knot  retied,  and  in  this  way  the  whole  matter  would  be 
legally  settled. 

Settled  at  all  events  it  was ;  for  to  the  astonishment  of  all  out¬ 
siders,  Mr.  Blunt  suddenly  declared  himself  satisfied,  De  R — e 
declared  himself  satisfied,  and  every  body  being  now  satisfied  but 
the  public — who  cannot  understand,  despite  this  new  theory  of 
French  tie,  why  avowed  bigamists  cannot  and  should  not  be 
punished — the  Blunt  family  went  on  to  Mobile,  and  the  gallant 
Zouave  returned  to  New  York,  apparently  as  empty-handed  as 
when  he  set  out. 

But  our  hero’s  triumph  did  not  end  here ;  one  would  have  sup¬ 
posed  that  when  this  unprincipled  adventurer  got  so  far  into 
the  land  of  chivalry  as  Savannah,  he  would  have  met  with  his 
deserts ;  that  the  outraged  father  would  have  settled  the  affair  and 
the  Zouave  at  one  and  the  same  time,  or  that  some  chivalric  son 
of  the  South  would  have  done  it  for  him ;  but  no !  notwithstand¬ 
ing  De  R — e  picked  his  teeth  with  his  saber,  sprinkled  powder 
openly  on  his  meat,  and  took  snuff  from  his  pistol-barrel,  declaring 
aloud  all  the  time  (according  to  the  Savannah  Republican),  that 
fighting  was  a  mere  pastime  to  liim ;  that  he  would  be  happy  to 
meet  any  gentleman  upon  the  merits  of  this  question,  and  would 
even  wait  over  a  steamer  to  accommodate  such  a  party,  not  a 
Georgian  raised  a  hand  save  to  applaud  him,  and  he  quitted  the 
field  with  all  his  colors  flying. 


17 


"We  have  here  the  spectacle  of  a  foreign  adventurer  deceiving 
and  outraging  a  respectable  American  family,  and  escaping  all 
punishment  therefor,  because  the  law  could  not  reach  him,  and  be¬ 
cause  there  was  none  but  a  peaceable,  gray-liaired  citizen,  directly 
obligated  to  protect  the  injured — nay,  more ;  virtually  declaring 
that  he  would  stop  the  breath  of  any  man  who  presumed  to  ques¬ 
tion  his  conduct  or  his  motives,  and  meeting  with  no  response. 

Now,  we  are  not  in  favor  of  dueling,  particulary  of  ven¬ 
turing  the  life  of  a  good  citizen  against  that  of  a  worthless  adven¬ 
turer,  and  especially  when  the  inequality  of  the  thing  is  made 
more  so  from  the  latter  being  a  professor  of  arms ;  but  we  do  say 
that  a  man  of  the  stamp  we  have  just  depicted  should  be  kicked 
out  of  every  decent  citizen’s  dwelling  the  moment  he  is  found 
in  it,  and  if  one  pair  of  boots  are  not  enough  to  “bell  the  cat,” 
the  proprietor  should  borrow  of  his  guests  or  his  neighbors ;  and 
this  brings  us  to  record  a  slightly  similar  case,  in  which  the 
offender  received  the  treatment  we  now  advocate,  and  leads  us  to 
say :  “  If  you  find  a  dog  in  your  parlor  kick  him  out.” 

During  the  winter  of  1857-8,  the  niece  of  a  Mr.  C - ,  a  cele¬ 

brated  banker  of  Washington,  was  much  annoyed  by  Don  M., 
an  attache  of  the  Spanish  legation,  who  made  a  practice  of  follow¬ 
ing  her  very  impertinently  and  offensively,  through  the  streets  of 
the  capital.  Upon  hearing  of  this,  the  banker  expressed  his 
opinion  of  the  Don’s  conduct,  to  the  face  of  that  gentleman ;  and 
probably  did  so  with  all  the  frankness  and  severity  the  case  de¬ 
served.  Dor  the  language  thus  used  the  Don  demanded  an  apol¬ 
ogy  ;  which  the  banker  very  consistently  declined  to  give.  The 
Spaniard  then  waxed  wroth,  and  gave  notice  of  a  challenge; 
which  circumstance  soon  became  noised  abroad,  and  the  banker’s 
daughter,  in  her  anxiety  for  her  father’s  safety,  sent  the  Spaniard 
a  note,  requesting  an  interview,  in  the  hope  of  securing  an  amica¬ 
ble  settlement  of  the  difficulty. 

The  Don  accepted  the  invitation  and  kept  the  appointment;  but 
with  a  due  regard  to  his  personal  safety,  took  a  six-shooter  in  his 
pocket,  and  left  a  friend  outside  who  was  to  call  for  the  police,  or 
other  help,  should  danger  chance  to  threaten  his  principal. 

At  this  moment  the  banker  was  dining  with  a  U.  S.  Senator 
whose^mansion  adjoined  his  own,  and  on©  of  his  servants  entered 


18 


to  state  that  a  man  of  suspicious  appearance  was  prowling  about 
the  banker’s  dwelling.  Attended  by  the  Senator,  Mr.  C.  passed 
into  the  hall  of  his  own  house,  where  he  met  his  daughter ;  and 
from  the  entry  to  the  picture-gallery,  where  by  the  light  of  the 
entry-lamp  they  discovered  a  man  under  the  piano. 

Seizing  the  intruder  by  the  collar,  the  banker  dragged  him  from 
his  hiding-place,  and  discovered  him  to  be  no  less  a  person  than 
the  Spanish  attache;  with  a  desire  to  tender  him  the  gentlemanly 
courtesy  which  the  occasion  and  circumstances  (as  then  under¬ 
stood  by  Mr.  C.)  seemed  to  indicate  as  most  fitting,  the  indignant 
father  kicked  the  intruder  out  of  the  room  and  into  the  street,  his 
friend,  the  Senator,  having  kindly  taken  and  supported  the  Don’s 
pistol  during  this  operation. 

Rendered  furious  by  this  treatment,  and  the  comments  the  pub¬ 
lic  made  thereon,  a  few  days  after  the  Spaniard  made  a  desperate 
assault  upon  the  banker,  as  that  gentleman  was  quietly  and 
peaceably  entering  his  dwelling;  approaching  him  from  behind, 
until  only  some  ten  feet  separated  them,  and  exerting  nearly  his 
whole  strength  he  pitched  his  glove  at  the  unheeding  American, 
and  immediately  followed  up  this  advantage  by  drawing  off,  ex¬ 
hibiting  a  pistol,  and  in  excited  tones  urging  Mr.  0.  to  “shoot,” 
“shoot,”  “shoot.” 

Mr.  C.  was  for  a  moment  confounded  by  the  singularity  of  this 
proceeding,  but  recovering,  and  dinner  awaiting  him,  he  simply 
threatened  the  Don  with  the  calaboose,  and  entered  his  own 
dwelling.  Subsequently  to  this,  Don  M.  sent  several  challenges 
to  the  banker,  and  followed  him  to  New  York,  where  he  was 
threatened  with  expulsion  from  the  hotel  at  which  Mr.  C.  was 
stopping,  in  consequence  of  his  many  annoyances. 

Some  may  assert  that  Don  M.  having  been  invited  to  the  house 
of  the  banker  by  one  of  the  family,  was  entitled  to  a  chance  for 
explanation  before  being  summarily  ejected ;  but  the  Spaniard 
well  knew  the  estimation  in  which  Mr.  C.  held  him ;  beside,  his 
position  under  the  piano  indicated  a  meanness  of  motives  or  of 
character,  which  entitled  him  to  just  the  treatment  lie  received. 
No  man,  whatever  the  circumstances,  can  assume  such  a  come- 
kick-me  position,  without  an  assured  expectation  that  boot-toes 
will  take  the  hint  and  be  after  him. 


19 


So  again  we  say,  If  a  dog  enter  your  parlor  kick  him  ouV' 

Impostors  of  this  stamp  sometimes  have  the  tables  turned  upon 
them ;  a  case  in  point  in  which  woman’s  wit  was  triumphant,  is 
that  of  the  “  Count  ”  De  Moreto. 

.  This  Moreto  was  one  of  the  greatest  villains  that  ever  went  un¬ 
hung  ;  his  father  was  a  merchant  in  Chili ;  Moreto  once  undertook 
to  raise  an  insurrection  there;  and  was  driven  out  of  Valparaiso 
by  a  gentleman  whose  sister  he  had  decoyed,  and  who  sought 
his  life. 

He  first  made  his  appearance  at  Boston,  where  he  remained 
about  a  year.  His  insinuating  manners  introduced  him  among 
some  of  the  first  families  of  that  staid  city,  and  he  obtained  a 
large  class  of  pupils  as  a  teacher  of  modern  languages.  His  pupils 
were  chiefly  ladies,  and  he  gained  the  affections  of  several  of 
them.  His  operations  in  this  direction  it  is  not  proper  for  us  to 
state ;  they  were  what  might  be  expected  of  a  man  of  his  char¬ 
acter. 

While  in  Boston  he  excited  quite  a  sensation  and  much  sym¬ 
pathy,  by  reporting  that  his  room  had  been  robbed,  and  the  cir¬ 
cumstance  was  largely  noticed  in  its  journals.  It  is  enough  to 
say  that  the  “  robbery  ”  was  entirely  fictitious,  existing  only  in 
the  fertile  imagination  of  his  Donship.  The  consequence  of  this 
unfortunate  affair  was  that  he  was  unable  to  pay  his  board, 
amounting  to  $300.  He  boarded  at  a  respectable  private  house 
and,  like  De  B — e,  had  his  mistress  with  liim,  an  Irish  lady  of 
good  family,  whom  he  had  seduced,  and  who  passed  at  the  house, 
as  his  wife.  Of  course  the  board  of  both  was  a  dead  loss  to  the 
innocent  landlady. 

He  was  several  times  detected  in  the  act  of  stealing  watches 
and  jewelry  from  the  families  of  his  pupils,  and  at  last  stole  a 
watch  from  the  wife  of  a  Boston  lawyer,  which  closed  his  career 
in  that  city.  He  was  arrested  for  this  theft  at  Portland,  Me.,  and 
put  in  irons,  but  out  of  compassion  the  lawyer  let  him  go,  not 
knowing  of  how  deep  villainy  the  man  was  capable. 

He  was  baffled  at  his  own  game — sold — after  this  fashion.  A 
lady  who  had  been  intimate  with  the  fascinating  teacher  of  lan¬ 
guages,  discovered  that  he  was  not  “all  her  fancy  painted” 
him,  and  determined  to  punish  him  for  his  unparalleled  impudence 


20 


and  self-conceit.  Accordingly,  she  wrote  Moreto  a  letter,  pur¬ 
porting  to  come  from  a  married  lady,  in  which  she  said  that  she 
was  deeply  enamored  of  him,  had  heard  of  his  misfortunes  in 
Chili,  “  loved  him  for  the  dangers  he  had  passed,”  and  was  willing 
and  able  to  relieve  him  pecuniarily,  and  would  do  so  personally, 
as  soon  as  her  husband  left  for  Europe— naming  the  time. 

With  this  missive  the  self-enamored  Don  posted  to  the  lady  who 
had  written  it,  exhibited  it  to  her  as  evidence  of  his  prowess  among 
the  fair  sex,  and  as  an  example  of  the  love  the  ladies  “  couldn’t 
help”  offering  up  at  his  shrine. 

“Will  you  accept  the  offer  and  meet  her?”  said  his  fair  querist. 
“Ah,  no,  it  is  impossible — ^let  them  languish,  if  they  must  love 
me,  for  I  cannot  love  them  all.”  Nevertheless,  the  self-sufficient 
illustrissimo  sent  an  answer  to  the  note,  which  produced  a  reply, 
and  the  time  when  the  unknown  should  visit  him  was  fully  agreed 
upon. 

He  showed  the  letter  to  a  gentleman  into  whose  confidence  he 
had  wormed  himself,  and  to  whom  he  was  largely  indebted ;  and 
the  latter,  thinking  he  saw  a  tangible  way  of  getting  his  money 
back,  entered  eagerly  into  the  scheme,  and  advanced  the  Don 
money  to  purchase  furniture  wherewith  to  furnish  gorgeously  a 
suite  of  rooms  in  which  he  was  to  receive  his  fair  inamorata.  The 
day  came,  and  the  noble  but  unfortunate  foreigner,  installed  in 
state  in  his  splendid  apartments,  awaited  the  arrival  of  the  lady 
and  the  lucre. 

The  lady  did  not  come ;  but  in  her  place  appeared  a  note,  in 
which  she  said  that  it  was  impossible  for  her  to  meet  him  at  the 
time  appointed,  but  that  she  could  perform  her  promise  so  far  as 
the  money  was  concerned.  Inclosed  was  a  three-ceni  piece  !  The 
rueful  countenance  of  the  chop-fallen  Don  we  leave  to  the  imagin¬ 
ation  of  our  readers. 

After  his  departure  from  Boston,  we  hear  of  him  at  Washing¬ 
ton,  and  next  in  Chicago.  The  details  of  his  operations  there  we 
may  give  in  another  work ;  suffice  it  for  the  present  to  say  that 
he  most  outrageously  humbugged  the  fashionables  of  that  smart 
young  city ;  and  those  credulous  people  who  still  fondly  hope  that 
liis  Donship  will  return  anH  carry  out  his  splendid  Highland  Park 
fete,  may  be  assured  that  they  are  “hoping  against  hope;”  no 


21 


more  ■will  the  “  Count’s  ”  distingue  form  and  elegant  mustache 
delight  the  denizens  of  the  avenues — he  is  gone ;  may  they  never 
look  upon  his  like  again. 

By  the  above  it  ‘will  be  seen  that  these  impostors  are  sometimes 
sustained  in  their  nefarious  operations  by  men  to  -whom  they  have 
become  indebted;  'we  kno^w  of  eases  "where  the  business  has  been 
entered  into  as  a  regular  speculation ;  not  in  every  case  for  the 
fortune  the  victim  promised  to  bring  into  the  conspirators’  hands 
through  marriage  with  the  chief  actor,  but  sometimes  simply  for 
black  mail  purposes. 

We  cannot  better  close  this  chapter  than  by  the  following  verses 
from  the  London  “Punch.” 

You  ladies  of  the  verdant  class, 

Soft,  sentimental  souls, 

Beware  of  foreign  snobs,  who  pass 
For  noble  exiled  Poles. 

Oh!  dote  not  on  their  raven  hair. 

Their  lean  and  hungry  maws. 

Their  bushy  chins,  their  tragic  air, 

And  sallow  lantern  jaws. 

The  heart  beneath  that  seedy  vest. 

But  not  beneath  a  shirt, 

With  sordid  feelings  is  possessed  ; 

Well  matched  with  outer  dirt. 

He  wants  your  money  not  your  hand. 

In  seeking  you  for  wife  ; 

He  rather,  durst  he,  would  demand 
Your  money  or  your  life. 

Count,  indeed  ! — count  your  spoons  when  he 
Has  been  to  make  a  call ; 

And  very  fortunate  you’ll  be 
If  you  should  find  them  all. 

But  better  were  it  with  your  plate 
The  fellow  should  depart. 

Than  in  his  power  get  your  estate 
By  stealing,  first,  your  heart. 


SKY-PAKLOE,  NOBILITY. 

**  Let  them  languish,  I  cannot  love  them  all.” 


CHAPTER  III. 


School  Girls;  Parlor  Serpents;  Carpet  Bandits. 

The  wife-hunters,  bigamists,  and  seducers  which  thrive  among 
our  upper  classes,  are  by  no  means  confined  to  foreigners.  The 
superficial  education,  the  servile  adoration  of  fashion  and  atten¬ 
tion  to  the  shows  and  frivolities  of  fashionable  life,  which  charac¬ 
terize  certain  phases  of  society  in  our  large  cities,  necessarily  give 
rise  to  a  host  of  idlers,  who,  in  some  way  or  other  make  a  living 
out  of  them.  The  field  is  a  large  one,  and  is  open  to  all  who 
have  the  address  to  exploit  it. 

The  advantage  which  the  European  adventurer  has  over  the 
native  American  roue  is,  that  he  sometimes  dazzles  by  his  false 
titles ;  and  his  antecedents  being  the  more  difficult  to  reach,  he 
can  operate  longer  and  more  extensively  on  his  borrowed  or  as¬ 
sumed  capital.  It  is  no  disgrace  to  be  a  foreigner ;  or,  being  a 
foreigner,  to  marry  an  American  woman.  On  the  contrary,  it  is 
frequently  an  evidence  of  honorable  intentions,  approved  merit, 
and  good  sense.  Providing  it  be  not  a  mere  exchange  of  wealth 
for  rank  or  “blood,”  we  approve  of  intermarriages  between  our 
own  people  and  those  of  other  nations,  particularly  of  the  mother 
country;  it  is  the  only  species  of  cousin-ing  (cozen- ing)  our  works 
will  indorse,  and  we  say  this  much,  that  we  may  be  understood 
as  not  wishing  to  prejudice  our  countrymen  or  countrywomen 
against  worthy  foreigners. 

Wife-stealing  and  seduction,  then,  are  not  in  this  country  of  alien 
growth,  as  we  shall  proceed  to  prove ;  and  in  doing  this  faithfully, 
we  shall  be  obliged  to  show  up  as  great  a  degree  of  heartlessness 
and  meanness  on  the  part  of  our  own  countrymen  as  was  ever 
exhibited  by  the  men  of  any  civilized  nation  whatever. 


24 


While  the  temptations  of  wealth  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
pressure  of  poverty  upon  the  other,  lead  on  females  of  the  lower 
classes  to  destruction,  the  daughters  of  the  wealthy  are  not  with¬ 
out  their  perils,  in  the  form  of  too  great  leisure,  unhealthy  ex¬ 
citements  of  the  theatre  and  ball-room,  injurious  books,  and  un¬ 
profitable  companions — and  to  this  must  be  added,  ignorance  of 
their  own  susceptibility,  and  (as  a  consequence)  of  their  constant 
exposure  to  evil. 

Of  the  instances  of  seduction  among  the  higher  classes,  probably 
four-fifths  either  occur  to  females  between  the  ages  of  fifteen  and 
eighteen  years,  or  may  be  directly  traced  to  the  undermining  of 
their  purity,  brought  about  at  that  period  of  their  lives.  This 
time  covers  the  latter  portion  of  their  school  days,  and  their 
preparation  for,  and  entrance  into,  society.  If,  then,  this  portion 
of  her  life  is  so  dangerous  to  a  young  lady,  the  question  naturally 
arises  as  to  why  it  is  so ;  ^nd  the  solution  of  the  same  must  mani¬ 
festly  be  looked  for  in  herself,  and  in  the  character  of  her  teachings 
and  surroundings. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  the  child  begins  to  bud  into  the  woman, 
and  her  feelings  and  imagination  are  keenly  alive  to  all  outward 
impressions;  self-assurance  begins  to  set  in,  and  she  commences 
to  think  and  act  for  herself,  and  to  confide  more  in  her  mates  than 
her  parents ;  curiosity  and  tattle  are  natural  to  her,  and  nothing 
is  so  exciting  to  her  sex  as  scandal,  and  unless  her  companions 
are  very  choice  and  pure-minded,  she  soon  becomes  familiar  with 
all  the  details  of  intrigue  and  evil. 

It  is  just  at  this  time  that  she  begins  to  study,  or  at  least  to 
read  and  understand  the  classics ;  music,  poetry,  and  mythology 
now  open  to  her  a  new  and  delightful  world,  and  every  thing 
about  her  seems  bright  and  harmless.  It  is  now  that  pestilential 
novels,  and  the  talk  of  unprofitable  companions,  exert  their  cor¬ 
rupting  influences  upon  her.  She  devours  the  sensation  stories 
of  the  flash  papers,  and  the  police  reports  and  scan-mag  of  the 
daily  journals.  Byron;  and  often  Eugene  Sue,  are  covertly  her 
daily  companions ;  while  a  portion  of  her  studies,  and  sometimes 
unprincipled  teachers,  help  her  forward  on  the  road  to  evil; 
most  classical  studies  abound  with  cases  of  illicit  love,  detailed  in 
the  most  flowery  and  seductive  language ;  and  their  tendency  is, 


25 


to  inflame  the  passions  of  the  young,  and  to  open  the  door  as  it 
were  to  the  approach  of  the  evil-doer.  What  more  could  any 
libertine  ask  than  the  frequent  opportunity  of  reading  and  dis¬ 
cussing  the  Hiad  of  Homer,  with  his  intended  victim ;  or  to  sit  by 
her  side,  with  the  guitar,  or  at  the  piano,  and  instruct  her  to  sing 
with  feeling  and  effect  the  “  Drink  to  me  only”  of  Philostratus,  or 
the  “  Come  rest  in  this  bosom”  of  Tom  Moore. 

How  ignorant  parents  are  of  what  constitutes  a  finished  educa¬ 
tion.  The  lack  of  the  capping-stone,  “  Know  thyself,”  often  leaves 
the  edifice  in  just  a  condition  to  be  finished  by  the  destroyer. 
With  all  her  regard  for  her  daughter,  how  much  more  the  fashion¬ 
able  mother  thinks  of  her  child  appearing  well  than  of  her  doing 
well;  thousands  of  dollars  are  expended  as  a  tribute  to  the  god 
of  fashion,  scarce  an  hour  to  instruct  her  in  the  art  of  self-defence; 
she  is  taught  to  make  conquests,  not  to  guard  against  the  traitor 
which  may  lie  hid  within  her  own  breast.  To  talk,  dance,  sing, 
play  and  dress  to  perfection,  and  be  able  to  create  a  sensation,  are 
the  great  points  aimed  at ;  and  -thus  a  creature  of  taste  and 
beauty,  knowing  well  her  powers  of  fascination,  and  anxious  to 
exercise  them,  goes  forth  into  the  world,  to  excite  the  envy  and 
malice  ^f  her  own  sex,  and  to  encounter  men  possessed  of  powers 
equal  to  her  own,  and  with  this  advantage  over  her,  that  they 
have  experience,  and  while  she  can  but  dazzle,  they  can  destroy. 

It  is  painful  to  witness  the  entree  of  a  beautiful  and  talented 
young  lady  to  the  fashionable  world  of  Hew  York  city,  at  the 
present  day,  and  reflect  upon  the  dangers  that  await  her.  Her 
parents,  friends,  and  her  own  pride,  act  as  safeguards;  but  she  is 
at  an  age  when  love  is  the  great  business  of  life,  and  both  her 
heart  and  her  instincts  prompt  her  to  love ;  and  this  love,  which 
should  be  pure  and  single,  is,  through  the  bad  examples  about  her, 
and  the  pernicious  sentiments  which  are  whispered  into  her  ears, 
constantly  in  danger  of  becoming  a  matter  of  the  passions  rather 
than  the  affections,  and  coquetry  and  conquest,  rather  than  a 
worthy  husband  and  a  position  of  usefulness,  become  the  aim  of 
her  existence ;  and  when  the  latter  are  lost  sight  of,  her  danger 
is  imminent ;  French  ideas  of  life  creep  into  her  mind ;  she  con¬ 
ceives  she  has  but  to  enjoy  life  wota,  and  marry  whenever  it  be¬ 
comes  necessary  to  secure  a  home. 


26 


When  women  are  so  educated  as  to  fall  into  this  way  of  thinks 
ing  and  acting,  is  it  any  wonder  that  De  Revi^res  flourish  or 
that  Sickles  cases  abound?  And  when  husbands  and  fathers  not 
only  permit  but  even  invite  notorious  libertines  to  enter  their 
dwellings,  should  they  not  be  held,  in  part,  accountable  for  the 
disgrace  which  these  parlor-serpents  so  often  inflict  upon  their 
families  ? 

Of  all  follies  in  the  world,  no  greater  is  committed  than  when  a 
professional  or  business  man,  or  any  man  whose  duties  call  him 
from  home  all  the  day  and  half  the  night,  marries  a  young,  beau¬ 
tiful,  and  fashionably-educated  young  woman,  and  then  leaves  her 
time  upon  her  hands,  to  be  used  up  as  she  can  best  occupy  it. 
A,  man  who  makes  money  or  ambition  the  chief  aim  of  his  ex¬ 
istence,  and  is  resolved  to  sacrifice  all  to  such  aims,  has  no  right 
to  take  to  himself  a  wife ;  for  a  wife  has  a  first  claim  to  the  com¬ 
panionship  of  her  husband ;  it  is  his  duty  to  comfort,  cherish,  and 
protect  her ;  any  other  condition  is  unnatural,  and  productive  of 
unnatural  results.  The  following  case  will  illustrate  this  point.  , 

In  184*7  a  very  wealthy  gentleman  named  Drugman  married  a 
Mississippi  belle  and  took  her  to  the  city  of  New  Orleans,  where 
he  embarked  largely  in  trade ;  business  soon  engrossed  almost 
all  of  his  time  and  mind,  still  he  was  very  fond  of  his  wife,  and 
supplied  all  her  wants  lavishly ;  but  her  love  of  fashion,  dress, 
and  display  became  inordinate,  and  caused  him  great  inconve¬ 
nience  and  unhappiness.  She  acquired  no  taste  for  domestic  life, 
for  home  was  not  made  attractive  to  her,  and  so  her  husband’s  in¬ 
fluence  soon  passed  away,  and  he  could  not  put  any  restraint  upon 
her,  for  an  assumed  or  real  ill  health  prevented  his  entertaining 
any  suspicions  of  her  fidelity. 

As  a  matter  of  course.  New  Orleans,  Newport,  and  Saratoga 
soon  presented  too  small  a  field  for  the  swing  of  this  vain  woman ; 
she  must  see  Paris ;  and  having  persuaded  her  husband  that  she 
was  suftering  under  a  complication  of  diseases  common  to  females, 
the  good  man  took  her  to  the  profligate  capital  of  France, 
where,  after  placing  her  in  charge  of  a  very  respectable  American 
family,  and  securing  for  her  the  services  of  the  most  noted  Parisian 
physicians,  he  left  her,  to  return  home  and  devote  himself  to  mak¬ 
ing  money,  which  she  was  to  devote  to  making  him  miserable. 


27 


Left  to  herself,  with  plenty  of  means  at  command,  she  directly 
set  about  creating  a  sensation,  and  became  at  once  a  mark  for  one 
of  those  most  despicable  of  all  fortune-hunters,  a  carpet  bandit — 
one  of  those  mean-souled  villains  who,  too  cowardly  to  rob  men, 
exploit  upon  women,  by  artfully  leading  them  into  Uasons,  for  the 
express  purpose  of  afterward  begging,  borrowing,  stealing,  or 
blackmailing  a  living  off  them,  and  who  sometimes  have  half  a 
dozen  different  women,  as  it  were  by  the  throat,  fleecing  them  all 
roundly,  and  never  quitting  their  hold  of  a  victim  so  long  as  she 
can  command  a  dollar. 

The  hero  in  the  present  case  was  an  American  and  New  York 

fashionable,  by  the  name  of  F - ss,  whose  mother  and  sister  had 

long  been  acquaintances  of  Mr.  Drugman.  This  fellow,  being 
out  of  funds,  and  doubtless  having  received  instructions  from 
Parisian  scoundrels,  fastened  himself  upon  Mrs.  D.,  and,  with  con¬ 
summate  art  and  perseverance,  succeeded  in  gaining  a  perfect 
mastery  over  his  victim ;  and  not  only  lived  upon  her  for  a  year 
in  Paris,  but  upon  her  leaving  France,  followed  her  and  her  hus¬ 
band  to  America,  stopping  at  the  same  hotels  in  New  York,  Phila¬ 
delphia,  and  New  Orleans,  drawing  upon  her  purse  all  the  time, 
and  forcing  her  to  sacrifice  her  jewmls  to  satisfy  his  demands ; 
once,  y^hen  she  had  fled  to  her  friends  for  protection,  he  compelled 
her,  by  threats  of  exposure,  to  return  to  the  arms  of  her  paramour ; 
and,  to  crown  all,  this  brute  at  times  rewarded  his  unresisting 
victim,  or  stimulated  her  fears,  with  kicks  and  blows  too  disgrace¬ 
ful  for  a  man  to  inflict  upon  a  dog. 

Mr.  Drugman’s  eyes  were  at  last  opened,  and  he  became  per¬ 
sonally  cognizant  of  his  wife’s  infidelity.  With  more  of  mercy 
and  kindness  than  most  men  would  have  exhibited  under  such 
provocation  and  ingratitude,  he  let  the  seducer  escape  with  his 
life ;  and  although  the  extravagance  of  Mrs.  D.,  oh  her  own  ac¬ 
count  and  that  of  F - ss’s  during  their  five  years’  intimacy, 

had  consumed  all  the  net  profits  of  his  business  as  well  as  the 
revenues  of  his  large  estates,  the  generous  man  did  not  totally 
abandon  his  degraded  wife,  but  took  her  to  her  friends,  and  pro¬ 
vided  handsomely  for  her  future;  it  being  his  “sincere  desire,”  to 
use  his  own  words,  “to  save  her  alike  from  the  temptations  of 
poverty,  and  to  keep  her  out  of  that  circle  of  fashion  and  pleasure 
by  which  she  has  already  been  corrupted.” 


28 


It  may  be  that  a  conciousness  of  his  own  remissness  had  some¬ 
thing  to  do  with  this,  for  he  must  have  felt  that  he  was  in  part 
responsible  for  her  fall  and  his  own  disgrace. 

With  the  mother  and  sister  of  F - ss  he  had  long  been  ac¬ 

quainted,  and  doubtless  had  introduced  them  to  his  wife  ;  he  must 

have  had  some  knowledge  of  the  character  of  F - ss  himself,  and 

should  have  warned  his  wife  against  associating  with  such  a  per¬ 
son.  To  review  the  case  and  gather  the  moral — 

Here  was  a  man  of  wealth  who  deemed  a  showy  wife  essen-  “ 
tial  to  his  happiness  ;  but  with  wealth  sufficient  to  make  a  home 
happy,  must  neglect  that  home  for  the  sake  of  more  wealth  to 
make  a  greater  show ;  and  as  a  consequence  lost  all  he  aimed  to 
gain,  and  wife  and  happiness  in  addition.  Truly  “  contentment 
is  better  than  wealth,”  and  an  in-door  wife  to  love,  than  an  out¬ 
door  woman  to  be  vain  of. 

A  similar  lesson  is  presented  in  the  celebrated  S-k-s  affair; 
but  which  is  not  given  here,  as  the  case  will  be  presented  in  a 
future  chapter,  entitled  “ Punishment  of  Seducers;”  but  it  is  fit¬ 
ting  to  state  that  in  an  attempt  by  F - ss  to  take  Mrs.  Drug- 

man  from  the  charge  of  her  husband,  the  seducer  employed 
S-k-s  as  his  counsel. 

A  similar  case,  but  of  greater  meanness,  is  thus  made  public  in 
the  New  York  Sun — 

“  A  young  married  lady,  who  had  gone  astray  some  years  before 
her  marriage,  though  the  fact  was  known  to  but  few,  has  been 
compelled  to  furnish  her  old  paramour  with  large  sums  of  hush- 
money,  until  his  demands  became  insatiable;  then  ensued  revela¬ 
tion,  despair,  separation,  etc.,  and  the  deprivation  of  a  loving  and 
wealthy  merchant-prince  of  a  husband’s  happiness.” 

Such  a  man  ought  to  be  branded  with  the  mark  of  Cain,  and 
hooted  out  of  society.  How  any  gentleman  can  associate  with 
such  a  villain,  or  any  woman,  however  degraded,  could  exchange 
words  with  him,  is  beyond  explanation. 

A  class  of  men  whose  antecedents  should  be  closely  inquired 
into  by  parents,  before  intrusting  daughters  to  their  charge,  are 
artists  and  music  teachers ;  and  this,  for  the  simple  reason,  as  has 
already  been  shown,  that  they  have  the  greatest  facilities  and 
means  to  lead  the  young  into  evil. 


V 


29 


The  party  implicated  in  the  first  example  we  shall  give,  is  an 
artist  of  the  long  hair  and  pointed  beard  school ;  full  of  talk  about 
Venice,  sweet  Italy,  the  romance  of  art,  the  delights  of  traveling 
in  foreign  climes,  and  all  the  topics  in  which  a  young,  sentimental, 
refined,  and  well  educated  girl  would  be  likely  to  be  interested. 
He  is  a  married  man,  and  a  member  of  the  same  church  with  the 
unfortunate  girl  whose  life  has  been  blighted  by  his  wiles.  It  is 
not  expedient  to  publish  names,  but  as  we  cannot  well  get  on 
without  giving  the  parties  some  appellations,  we  will  call  him 
Harvey  Kingsland,  and  the  girl  Laura  Sands. 

Laura  was  a  blooming,  beautiful  girl  of  seventeen,  moving  in  the 
very  first  society,  the  pride  and  joy  of  her  parents,  who  had  no 
other  children,  and  the  light  of  the  social  circle  in  which  she 
moved.  She  was  just  from  school,  aud  had  her  head  filled  with 
romance  and  poetry ;  life  was  to  her  all  brightness  and  joy,  with¬ 
out  a  single  cloud  to  mar  its  loveliness.  She  was  living  at  home 
in  her  father’s  house,  in  one  of  the  pleasant  villages  that  abound 
on  every  side  of  New  York. 

In  the  month  of  January,  Kingsland,  with  his  wife,  came  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Sands  to  board,  and  there  first  began  the  acquaint¬ 
ance  which  was  to  result  so  disastrously  to  poor  Laura. 

Hardly  had  Kingsland  become  fairly  domiciled  in  the  house  be¬ 
fore  he  commenced  paying  her  slight  attentions,  and  making  him¬ 
self  agreeable  by  compliments  and  flattery,  being  exceedingly 
careful,  however,  not  to  do  any  thing  to  excite  either  the  suspi¬ 
cion  of  Laura’s  father,  or  the  jealousy  of  his  own  wife.  Laura, 
poor  girl,  was  just  released  from  boarding-school,  where  she  had 
been  for  four  years,  under  the  strictest  surveillance  as  to  all  com¬ 
munication  with  the  other  sex. 

Kingsland’s  attentions  being  the  first  of  the  kind  she  had  ever 
received,  she  was  completely  bewildered  by  his  protestations  of 
regard,  while  the  fact  that  he  was  a  member  of  the  same  church 
with  herself,  disarmed  any  slight  suspicion  she  might  otherwise 
have  had,  for  surely,  she  thought,  so  good  a  man  could  think  no 
harm. 

Along  some  time  in  April,  a  difficulty  occurred  between  Kings¬ 
land  and  Mr.  Sands,  about  some  money  matters,  which  soon 
ripened  into  a  serious  quarrel,  and  the  two  men  hardly  spoke  to 


30 


each  other.  Kingsland  professed  to  be  very  desirous  to  have  the 
breach  healed  over,  and  accordingly  sought  the  intercession  of 
Laura  with  her  father,  to  bring  about  a  mutual  good  understanding. 

Under  pretence  of  talking  the  matter  over  with  her  where  they 
would  not  be  disturbed,  he  invited  her  to  meet  him  down  town, 
on  a  certain  day,  at  a  house  in  Canal  street.  She,  in  all  innocence, 
agreed  to  the  proposition,  and  met  him  at  the  place  and  hour  ap¬ 
pointed.  He  opened  the  conversation  by  saying  that  Mr.  Sands 
was  a  very  irritable  man,  with  whom  it  was  hard  to  come  to  an 
understanding,  but  he  thought  that  if  he  and  Laura  had  a  quiet 
chat  over  the  matter,  she  might  be  able  to  bring  it  all  right,  inas¬ 
much  as  she  had  almost  unbounded  influence  over  her  father. 

Kingsland  then  proposed  that  they  should  go  over  to  the  house 
of  an  acquaintance  of  his,  in  Laurens  street,  where  they  might  be 
perfectly  quiet,  and  not  liable  to  interruption.  At  the  door  of  this 
house  in  Laurens-street  they  were  met  by  a  very  respectable 
looking  woman,  with  whom  Kingsland  shook  hands,  and  whom 
he  introduced  to  Laura  as  his  aunt.  He  requested  of  her  the 
favor  of  a  private  room,  where  he  could  have  a  business  conver¬ 
sation  with  the  young  lady.  The  “aunt”  replied  that  they  could 
go  into  her  own  room  for  an  hour  or  so,  and  accordingly  showed 
them  to  a  room  very  neatly  furnished  as  a  bedroom. 

Laura  having  the  utmost  faith  in  her  attendant,  and  fully  be¬ 
lieving  that  the  woman  was  his  aunt,  thought  nothing  wrong,  and 
proceeded  to  make  herself  very  comfortable.  Soon  the  aunt 
brought'in  some  nicely-cooked  oysters,  and  some  delicious  milk- 
punches,  of  which  Laura  partook,  remarking  innocently  to  Kings¬ 
land  that  his  aunt  was  very  attentive  and  hospitable. 

They  talked  for  a  while  of  the  business,  but  after  more  milk- 
punches  had  been  brought  and  finished,  the  conversation  diverged 
from  that  to  other  topics.  He  soon  grew  bold,  and  told  her  he 
loved  her;  made  promises  of  protection;  said  that  he  could  and 
would  do  more  for  her  than  for  his  own  wife,  for  his  wife  was  able 
to  take  care  of  herself.  He  continued  in  this  strain  for  some  time, 
and  Laura,  inexperienced  as  she  was  in  the  ways  of  the  world, 
listened  with  pleasure. 

It  is  of  no  avail  to  go  into  details ;  suffice  to  say,  that,  excited 
as  she  was  by  the  spirits  she  had  taken,  in  which,  perhaps,  had 


31 


been  infused  some  deleterious  drug,  the  poor  girl,  hardly  con¬ 
scious  of  what  she  was  doing,  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  her 
false  friend,  and  fell. 

Having  thus  obtained  a  power  over  her,  Kingsland  forced  her 
afterward,  when  she  had  bitterly  repented  her  folly,  by  threats  of 
exposure,  to  renew  the  criminal  intimacy,  and  Laura  finally  be¬ 
came  the  mother  of  an  illegitimate  child,  to  the  shame  and  deep 
disgrace  of  herself  and  family. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  house  in  L — ns  street  is 
an  assignation-house,  and  that  the  “  aunt^’  is  its  mistress,  and  that 
she  was  perfectly  well  aware  of  every  thing  that  was  going  on. 

The  sanctimonious  Kingsland  has  been  prosecuted,  and  will  be 
undoubtedly  punished  by  the  slow  action  of  the  law,  though 
nearly  every  feeling  man  will  acknowledge  that  the  outraged 
father  would  have  been  justified  in  pursuing  a  much  shorter  me¬ 
thod  to  punish  the  betrayer  of  his  lovely  and  confiding  child. 

Now,  who  that  reads  the  above  can  but  feel  that  the  parents  of 
the  unfortunate  young  girl  were  deeply  culpable,  for  not  enlight¬ 
ening  her  as  to  her  dangers  and  weaknesses.  “  Ignorance  is  noc 
innocence,”  as  many  parents  have  found  to  their  sorrow.  The 
tragedy  of  Madeline  Smith,  the  Scotch  school-girl,  gives  evidence 
of  this. 

The  eldest  member  of  a  family  which  she  has  driven  from  home 
and  happiness,  she  was  nurtured  amid  all  the  refinements  of  life, 
like  a  house-plant.  Her  father  resolved  she  should  be  kept  apart 
from  the  world  as  much  as  possible.,  vainly  imagining  that  a  severe 
system  of  seclusion  from  its  evils  would  preserve  his  flower,  Made¬ 
line,  from  contamination.  She  was  permitted  to  know  of  evil  only 
"  as  it  wcLS  spoken  of  in  the  catechism.  While  she  was  a  girl,  he 
thought  he  could  mould  her  into  a  spotless  being,  denying  her 
even  so  much  acquaintance  with  the  outside  world  as  is  revealed 
in  the  columns  of  a  newspaper. 

The  result  was  even  worse  than  might  have  been  expected  from 
a  system  so  false  and  so  thoroughly  opposed  to  the  healthy  devel¬ 
opment  of  humanity,  in  a  world  where  moral  beauty  is  reached 
through  a  knowledge  of  the  bad  that  has  to  be  resisted  and  over¬ 
come. 

When  she  came  into  society,  Madeline  Smith  plunged  headlong 


32 


into  a  vortex,  of  the  existence  of  which  she  had  been  previously 
unaware  *  the  hot-house  plant  was  not  fitted  for  the  rough  atmos¬ 
phere  of  the  world,  and  it  perished.  The  catechism  was  secretly 
exchanged  for  “  Lucretia,”  and  novels  of  that  class,  which  were 
devoured  with  unwholesome  avidity. 

The  fast  literature  of  the  day  took  the  place  of  these  “  good 
books”  which  she  had  been  set  to  read  by  good  old  Dr.  Beattie  ; 
she  became  faster  in  her  pace  than  those  of  her  female  acquaint¬ 
ances  who  had  been  accustomed  to  what  Isaac  Taylor’s  old-lady 
friend  called  “a  little  wholesome  neglect,”  she  had  before  been  so 
well  taken  care  of  that  now  she  took  no  care  of  herself ;  as  a  conse¬ 
quence,  she  fell  an  easy  prey  to  the  first  artful  villain  who  pre¬ 
sented  himself,  and  the  result  is  embraced  in  a  few  words. 

A  female  servant  was  bribed  to  facilitate  the  nightly  visits  of 
the  Jersey  youth,  L’ Angelier,  to  the  house  of  the  young  lady,  and 
to  carry  letters  between  the  guilty  lovers ;  after  a  time,  Madeline 
awoke  to  a  realization  of  her  position  ;  remorse  and  the  dreary 
prospect  of  the  future,  should  she  continue  her  present  course, 
prompted  her  to  request  of  L’ Angelier  the  return  of  her  letters, 
and  a  complete  discontinuance  of  their  connection ;  she  was  fur¬ 
ther  prompted  to  this  measure  by  honorable  proposals  of  marriage 
from  a  worthy  young  gentleman;  but  her  cold-hearted  lover 
would  neither  marry  her  himself,  nor  permit  her  to  secure  a 
respectable  position  in  society ;  he  wished  to  retain  her  in  the 
worst  kind  of  bondage ;  he  was  deaf  to  her  tears  and  her  prayers^ 
and  refused  peremptorily  to  restore  her  letters.  She  then  poisoned 
him;  and  whether  the  jury  who  acquitted  her  of  murder  did 
right,  is  a  question  our  readers  must  settle  for  themselves ;  cer¬ 
tain,  however,  is  it,  that  L’ Angelier  deserved  the  severest  pun¬ 
ishment  for  his  meanness  and  cruelty. 

Now  manifest  is  it,  if  the  knowledge  of  evil  is  essentially  per¬ 
nicious  and  undesirable,  then  this  world  was  badly  constituted 
for  the  moral  development  and  growth  of  human  beings ;  and 
parents  should  make  haste  to  immure  their  children  in  convents, 
and  should  profoundly  rejoice  when  they  are  called  away  by  death. 
But  if  this  world  be,  as  we  believe,  divinely  devised  and  calcu¬ 
lated  for  the  temporary  abode  of  the  human  race,  and  for  their 
preparation  for  another  and  higher  existence,  then  is  it  better  for 


33 


the  great  majority  neither  to  be  born  blind  nor  deaf,  nor  to  be  sc; 
fenced  about  and  guarded  from  all  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
as  to  amount  practically  to  the  same  thing. 

We  therefore  hold,  that  some  knowledge  of  the  world,  and  of  theif 
own  dangers  and  weaknesses,  shmdd  he  viewed  as  an  essential  'part 
of  ever'y  'young  lady's  eduxation ;  and  that  such  information  should 
he  imparted  to  them  as  early  in  life  as  nature  places  them  in  peril. 


THE  APPEAL. 

“  May  God  impress  you  to  believe  me  innocent.” 


CHAPTER  lY. 


SECRET  ARTS  OP  SEDUCERS. 

[It  is  a  question  with  philanthropists,  whether  the  exposure  of 
crime  does  not  result  in  more  harm  than  good ;  whether  it  does 
not  instruct  the  designing  in  methods  of  evil  more  than  it  warns 
the  innocent  of  the  perils  which  environ  them ;  and  it  has  been 
a  serious  question — a  matter  of  some  months  of  serious  delibera¬ 
tion — whether  this  chapter  should  be  put  in  or  left  out  of  this 
work ;  but  a  case  of  recent  occurrence,  where  a  foul  scheme  for 
unjustly  and  disgracefully  divorcing  an  honest  and  worthy  wo¬ 
man  from  a  rich  husband  was  defeated,  through  the  persevering 
exertions  and  investigations  of  a  young  lawyer,  who  received  his 
cue,  in  this  case,  from  reading  the  proof-sheets  of  the  thirty- 
seventh  and  so  up  to  the  forty-fourth  page  of  this  book,  and  who 
at  that  time  strongly  condemned  their  publication,  has  decided 
the  question  in  favor  of  its  insertion ;  it  therefore  appears  entire, 
and  is  particularly  commended  to  the  consideration  of  judges, 
lawyers,  and  family  physicians.] 

Among  the  small-souled  methods  of  undermining  a  young  wo¬ 
man’s  character,  driving  her  from  home,  making  her  desperate, 
and  rendering  her  an  easy  prey  to  the  villainous  seducer,  is  that 
of  anonymous  and  forged  letters.  Now  the  appearance  of  the 
former,  unless  sustained  by  strong  corroborative  evidence,  is 
rather  a  proof  than  otherwise  of  the  virtuous  character  of  the 
woman  against  whom  they  are  directed ;  they  argue  that  more 
direct  and  easier  methods  of  overcoming  her  virtue  have  failed, 
(or,  until  she  becomes  broken-spirited,  dare  not  be  attempted, ) 
or  that  she  is  an  object  of  envy  and  cowardly  malice. 

Letters,  which  are  neither  forged  nor  anonymous,  are  some¬ 
times  used,  too,  for  vile  ends,  as  the  following  account  will  illus¬ 
trate  ;  the  names  are  fictitious. 


36 


Mary  Hastings,  the  daughter  of  a  poor  but  honest  Long  Island 
farmer,  was  early  in  life  domiciled  in  the  family  of  her  pastor 
whose  wife,  finding  her  to  be  a  girl  of  superior  abilities,  took  de¬ 
light  in  instructing  her,  and  under  her  fostering  care  Mary  be¬ 
came  an  intelligent,  well-bred,  and  very  attractive  young  woman. 

*^'rederick  L - ,  a  New  York  University  student,  the  nephew  and 

adopted  child  of  this  clergyman,  was  a  rake  of  the  first  rank, 
though  secret  in  his  practices,  and  having  made  improper  advances 
to  Mary  on  several  occasions,  which  her  delicacy,  as  well  as  her 
gratitude  to  her  benefactors  prevented  her  from  exposing,  she 
was  forced  to  leave  the  clergyman’s  roof,  and  hence  took 
charge  of  a  school  for  Misses  in  a  neighboring  town,  making  her 
home  at  the  house  of  the  principal  storekeeper  there. 

But  beauty  and  grace  are  often  inconvenient  as  well  as  pleas¬ 
ing  possessions;  her  troubles  did  not  end  with  her  removal. 

Young  Herman  C - ,  the  storekeeper’s  son,  paid  her  honorable 

attentions,  which  secured  for  her  the  malignant  envy  of  a  rich  far¬ 
mer’s  daughter,  who  had  counted  upon  the  storekeeper’s  son  as 
her  own,  while  the  baffled  collegian,  incited  by  jealousy,  resolved, 
at  any  sacrifice,  to  prevent  Mary’s  marriage,  and  having  tri¬ 
umphed  over  the  slight  virtue  of  her  rival,  so  as  to  make  a  more 
supple  tool  of  that  weak  girl,  the  two  carried  out  this  scheme — 

The  collegian  returned  to  New  York,  leaving  in  the  hands  of 
his  co-partner  a  letter,  dated  forward  two  weeks,  with  instruc¬ 
tions  to  deposit  it,  at  the  end  of  three  weeks,  after  dusk,  in  the 
street  which  led  from  Mary’s  school  to  her  home ;  this  letter, 
dated  at  New  York,  and  addressed  to  “My  dear  Mary,”  was 
filled  with  not  over  delicate  quotations  from  Ovid  and  Byron, 

and  signed  “your  friend  ever,  Frederick  L - .”  But  this  was 

not  all ;  its  whole  tenor  conveyed  the  Impression  that  an  im¬ 
proper  intimacy  had  long  existed  between  Mary  and  the  collegian. 
The  letter  was  duly  deposited,  was  picked  up  the  next  morning 
by  a  teamster,  read  and  passed  round,  and  in  forty-eight  hours 
became  the  town-talk. 

But  this  plot,  artful  as  it  was  diabolical,  did  not  succeed ;  Her¬ 
man  rightly  judged  the  case,  and  forthwith  addressed  the  colle¬ 
gian  a  letter,  suggesting  that,  as  he  had  ruined  the  girl,  it  was 
his  duty  to  provide  for  and  remove  her. 


This,  however,  was  but  a  riLse  of  Herman’s  to  get  the  col¬ 
legian  to  where  he  could  force  a  confession  from  him.  They 
met.  “  Science”  was  on  the  side  of  the  collegian,  but  the  en¬ 
raged  Herman  set  all  rules  aside,  and  dealt  out  justice  so  vig, 
orously  to  the  astonished  student  that,  to  save  his  life,  he  made 
a  full  confession,  and,  as  “to  the  victor  belongs  the  spoils,” 
Herman  secured  the  hand  of  the  grateful  girl.  "Who  shall  say  that 
this  young  man  did  not  conduct  this  case  better  than  any  lawyer. 

As  the  most  talented  and  best-hearted  men  often  fall  victims  to 
the  wine-cup,  so  frequently  do  the  most  amiable  of  women  be¬ 
come  the  prey  of  the  seducer ;  and  out  of  this  circumstance  short¬ 
sighted  men  too  often  found  an  unjust  estimate  of  female  virtue ; 
Many  forcible  examples  of  this  character  lose  all  weight  when 
fully  understood ;  for  it  is  a  fact,  that  some  unfortunate  women, 
even  of  the  higher  classes,  are  as  guiltless  of  their  fall,  as  they 
would  be  for  perishing,  if  thrown  from  the  suspension  bridge  that 
crosses  the  Niagara  river. 

“  She  was  the  most  benevolent,  self-denying,  pure-spoken  and 
sensitive  young  lady  I  ever  met  with,”  once  said  a  gentleman  to 
ns  when  speaking  of  a  mutual  acquaintance;  “the  last  woman 
on  earth  I  should  have  supposed  would  entertain  a  sinful  thought, 
much  less  commit  an  evd  deed,  and  yet  she  fell ;  truly,  ‘  frailty, 
thy  name  is  woman.’  ” 

We  had  no  reply  to  make  to  him  save  that  the  case  was  a  very 
strange  one ;  and  most  singular  it  was,  reader,  for  this  young  lady 
possessed  wealth,  accomplishments,  position,  friends,  and  had 
suitors  of  the  highest  character,  while  her  chosen  employment 
seemed  to  be  to  shed  light  and  happiness  upon  all  around  her,  high 
or  low, — and  yet  she  fell ;  fell  as  none  but  a  woman  can  fall — 
bringing  sorrow  and  confusion  to  many  a  Christian  woman’s  heart. 

We  were  then  too  young,  and  she  was  too  much  our  senior  for 
us  to  entertain  for  her  any  warmer  feeling  than  esteem,  but  half 
our  delight  in  existence  seemed  to  have  perished  when  she  went 
down ;  for  the  name  of  her  whom  we  had  looked  upon  as  one  of 
earth’s  angels  was  now  derisively  quoted  by  all  libertines  and 
women-haters,  and  our  respect  for  the  whole  sex,  our  mother,  sis¬ 
ters,  and  young  female  companions  then  just  budding  into  wom¬ 
anhood  was  sadly  lowered. 


S8 


But,  thank  God,  the  light  of  woman’s  smile  and  woman’s  pres¬ 
ence,  which  was  dimmed  for  a  time  to  our  then  narrow  vision,  now 
shines  upon  us  with  renewed  brightness ;  we  have  since  become 
cognizant  of  so  many  instances  of  uncomplaining  suffering,  patient 
perseverance  in  duty,  heroic  self-denial,  and  resistance  of  tempta¬ 
tion  on  the  part  of  woman,  that  when  we  contemplate  human 
frailty,  the  stronger  sex  seems  lowest  by  far  in  the  scale  of  virtue, 

V  and  we  find  the  type  of  Christ  on  earth  not  in  man  but  in  woman ; 
nor  does  any  thing  in  the  very  case  we  are  now  treating  of  dis¬ 
turb  these  convictions. 

We  have  before  said  that  “woman  is  God’s  greatest  trust  to 
man;”  that  “woman  is  powerless  to  the  man  she  loves;”  that 
“  there  is  a  vast  difference  between  the  voluntary  fallen  and  the 
cast-down f  and  that  woman  should  ever  maintain  a  saving  dread 
of  her  own  weakness,  and  man’s  treachery  and  duplicity;  the 
force  of  these  points  we  shall  illustrate  in  this  and  the  succeeding 
narratives ; — in  the  present  case  we  shall  show  that  the  victim 
was  ruined  (cast  down),  even  before  she  fell;  that  she  was  the 
unconscious  and  helpless  victim  of  a  demoniacal  conspiracy. 

Letitia  M.  was  the  child  of  a  once  promising  lawyer,  who 
finally  died  a  gambler  and  a  drunkard;  her  mother  was  a  noble 
woman,  the  daughter  of  a  clergyman ;  and  who — all  honor  to  her 
patient  sufferings — ^lived  a  model  life,  and  yet  died  of  a  broken 
heart. 

At  the  age  of  six,  both  her  parents  being  then  dead,  Letitia 
was  adopted  by  a  wealthy  gentleman,  a  bachelor,  and  politician 
of  some  note,  whom  we  shall  designate  by  the  name  of  Grey. 

To  this  Grey  lawyer  M.  became  largely  indebted,  for  sums 
which  he  had  embezzled  while  attending  to  the  suits  and  collect¬ 
ing  the  dues  of  the  politician,  and  which  sums  the  lawyer  irre¬ 
coverably  lost  at  the  gaming  table.  The  politician  was  a  man  of 
the  world,  and  possessed  with  no  very  high  estimate  of  female 
virtue ;  an  opinion  he  probably  came  honestly  by,  through  long 
sojournings  at  Washington  City. 

Mrs.  M.  being  a  very  beautiful  and  attractive  woman.  Grey  be¬ 
came  enamored  of  her,  and  to  the  debit  of  man's  frailty  we  are 
forced  to  record,  that  so  debased  by  his  vices  had  the  once  high- 
toned  lawyer  become,  and  such  was  his  dread  of  Grey’s  an- 


89 


ger  at  his  defalcations,  that  he  actually  urged  on  his  friend’s 
suit ;  the  woman  had  borne  all  else  of  misery  and  disgrace  which 
the  man  could  bring  upon  her ;  but  this  last  blow  from  her  hus¬ 
band  killed  her ;  and  it  was  the  resistance  she  made  to  all  of  Grey’s 
overtures,  of  “foreign  residence  and  travel,”- “  settlements  of  real 
estate,”  “adoption  of  her  daughter,”  backed  by  the  prospect  of 
escaping  from  the  brutal  treatment  of  a  demented  husband,  and 
the  calumnies  of  village  gossips,  who  had  already  connected  her 
name  offensively  with  that  of  the  politician’s ;  it  was  this,  but 
still  more  the  death-bed  scene  of  this  Christian  martyr,  at  which  he 
was  present,  and  the  sight  of  the  life-current  from  a  broken  blood¬ 
vessel  which  oozed  from  her  mouth,  that  changed  Grey’s  estimate  of 
woman’s  character ;  on  his  knees  he  urged  her  forgiveness  for  the 
share  he  had  in  her  untimely  death;  pleaded  his  own  bitter  dis¬ 
appointment  in  early  youth  as  some  excuse  for  his  evil  life  and 
conduct,  begged  her  consent  to  her  child  being  consigned  to  his 
care,  and  vowing  to  adopt,  and  rear  her  to  goodness  and  useful¬ 
ness,  as  some  atonement  for  his  own  wrong-doing  in  this  matter. 

In  a  month  from  this  time  lawyer  M.  died  of  delirium  tremens, 
and  Letitia  became  the  ward  of  Grey,  who  furnished  a  handsome 
dwelling,  installed  his  widowed  sister  therein  as  housekeeper, 
placed  Letitia  there,  supplied  her  with  the  best  of  tutors,  sur¬ 
rounded  her  with  every  comfort,  and  for  twelve  years,  during 
which  time  his  iron-gray  locks  changed  to  pure  white,  he  was  not 
only  to  Letitia  all  that  a  kind,  considerate  parent  could  be, — but 
to  the  community  he  proved  one  of  the  best  of  men.  Letitia  was 
his  idol ;  he  loved  secretly  to  dwell  upon  the  virtues  and  charac¬ 
teristics  of  the  mother,  and  see  them  daily  developing  in  the 
daughter;  while  she  loved  him  with  all  the  devoted  gratitude 
which  a  generous  heart  could  not  but  feel  for  one  who  was  both 
father  and  mother  to  the  destitute  orphan,  and  all  for  no  unworthy 
or  selfish  ends. 

But  during  most  of  this  time,  envy,  self-interest  and  avarice 
were  at  work  to  destroy  the  well-merited  happiness  of  Grey,  and 
the  future  earthly  good  of  his  ward;  a  scheme  of  evil  was  devised 
and  carried  out  in  this  case,  which  more  than  matched  any  act  of 
the  Borgias ;  it  seems  like  to  sullying  the  paper  to  write  it  down, 
even  in  the  most  delicate  and  ambiguous  terms  in  which  it  can  be 


40 


expressed;  we  shrink  from  bringing  the  foul  deed  before  the 
minds  of  our  pure  readers ;  and  yet  as  it  may  in  some  instances 
tend  to  clear  the  unjustly  aspersed  character,  of  the  uncomplain¬ 
ing  dead,  and  perhaps  save  some  firmly  virtuous  maiden,  or  wronged 
wife,  from  utter  desolation,  we  must  do  it ; — our  work  would  be 
incomplete  without  it. 

Grey’s  sister  was  both  selfish  and  unprincipled ;  she  wished  the 
entire  fortune  of  her  wealthy  brother,  who  was  much  her  senior, 
should  come  to  herself  and  children ;  these,  a  son  ^d  daughter. 
Grey  for  sound  reasons  held  in  light  esteem ;  hence,  both  mother 
and  children  conceived  a  hatred  of  the  innocent  Letitia,  which 
arose  to  perfect  malignity,  when  the  youth,  having  arrived  at  ma¬ 
turity,  was  repulsed  in  his  suit  for  Letitia’s  hand ;  a  step  he  had 
taken  at  his  mother’s  instance,  who  hoped  in  this  way  to  retain 
the  wealth  in  her  own  family. 

From  this  time  every  art  which  the  trio  could  conceive,  was 
put  in  force,  to  weaken  Letitia^s  hold  upon  Mr.  Grey’s  favor ;  but  he 
understood  their  motives  and  remained  firm.  The  only  effect 
their  schemes  had  upon  him  was  an  intimation  that  he  would 
remove  her  into  another  family. 

Grey’s  nephew  became  a  stock-broker,  as  well  as  a  fast  man, 
and  absorbed  no  little  of  his  uncle’s  funds ;  his  sister,  while  pay¬ 
ing  a  visit  to  a  neighboring  city,  was  seduced  by  a  banker,  a  very 
fascinating,  handsome  scoundrel,  a  member  of  a  church,  and  with 
a  reputation  (a  mere  financial  move  to  secure  credit  for  large 
wealth)  for  extensive  benevolence ;  when  the  fact  of  his  sister’s 
ruin  was  privately  made  known  to  the  brother,  he  did  not  shoot 
her  betrayer,  but  resolved  to  use  both  parties  to  effect  Letitia’s  ruin ; 
the  banker  was  really  insolvent,  as  the  brother  well  knew ;  the 
promise  of  a  handsome  sum  as  well  as  the  prospect  of  gratification, 
enlisted  his  services  at  once;  while  the  sister,  out  of  spite  and 
malice,  though  perfectly  willing  that  there  should  be  “a  loan 
of  a  lover”  in  the  case,  gave  her  gentleman  to  understand,  (as  did 
her  brother,)  that  under  no  circumstances  would  an  honorable 
marriage  with  their  uncle’s  ward  be  permitted. 

The  banker  secured  an  introduction  to  Mr.  Grey,  and  through 
him  to  Letitia.  He  had  scarcely  made  his  appearance,  when, 
according  to  the  understood  plan,  both  brother  and  sister  began  to 


41 


sneer  at  his  manners,  his  piety,  his  benevolence  and  wealth,  well 
knowing  that  this  was  precisely  the  course  to  interest  an  honest, 
just  heart  like  Letitia’s,  in  the  gentleman,  as  well  as  raise  him  in 
the  estimation  of  Mr.  Grey ;  so  the  nefarious  plan  prospered,  for  in 
a  few  months,  to  the  great  seeming  vexation  of  both  mother  and 
children,  the  banker  became  an  accepted  suitor;  his  fascinating 
manners,  professed  piety,  apparently  spotless  character,  and  re¬ 
puted  wealth,  and  all  that  went  to  make  up  a  desirable  match 
in  Mr.  Grey’s  estimation  seemed  to  be  centered  in  the  conspirator, 
and  Grey  felt  exceeding  thankful  that  in  this  man  he  had  secured 
a  kind  protector  for  his  young  ward ;  that  he  had  accomplished 
the  last  great  object  of  his  life,  and  could  now  lay  his  head  in  the 
grave  in  peace;  while  so  noble  and  generous  a  being  seemed 
Letitia  to  her  affianced,  that  it  softened  even  his  callous  heart,  and 
gladly  would  he  have  honorably  wedded  her ;  but  an  exposure  of 
his  character,  and  of  his  original  purpose,  would  have  destroyed 
all  hope  both  with  Letitia  and  her  protector,  and  the  means  of 
such  exposure  had  been  carefully  secured  by  his  co-conspirators 
in  the  outset,  in  the  shape  both  of  letters  and  writings ;  to  first 
ruin  and  then  make  marriage  a  necessity  on  her  part,  became 
then  the  secret  intent  of  Letitia’s  now  sincere  lover. 

But  all  his  open  efforts  in  this  direction  failed ;  loving  and  con¬ 
fiding  as  she  was,  her  pure  instinct  took  instant  alarm  at  his  most 
delicate  advances,  and  with  a  prudence  worthy  of  all  imitation, 
she  finally  avoided  remaining  alone  with  him,  and  even  urged  him 
to  remain  in  his  own  city  and  leave  her  in  seclusion  until  such 
time  as  she  could  become  his  wife. 

Foiled  in  this  direction,  the  conspirators  next  resolved  upon 
effecting  an  entrance  for  the  banker  into  Letitia’s  chamber,  at 
midnight,  his  frequent  stay  of  two  or  three  days  at  a  time  at  the 
house  favoring  the  plan ;  accordingly  one  evening,  before'  retiring, 
a  glass  of  drugged  wine  was  artfully  given  to  Letitia,  and  when 
all  was  still  in  the  house,  the  banker  made  his  way  through 
the  chamber  of  his  first  victim  to  that  of  his  proposed  second ; 
but  the  jealousy  of  the  female  conspirator  would  not  allow  her  to 
permit  him  to  remain  there  scarce  a  second,  ere  she  locked  the 
communicating  door  upon  him,  and  rushed  into  the  entry  with  the 
ciy  that  there  were  burglars  in  the  house ;  the  inmates  at  once  as- 


42 


sembled;  the  alarm!.st  declared  she  heard  the  intruders  in  Letitia’s 
room ;  the  door  was  rapped  upon,  but  no  answer  came ;  it  was 
broken  open  and  the  banker  discovered,  and  the  state  of  lethargy 
the  innocent  girl  was  in  was  viewed  by  the  servants  as  a  feeble 
ruse  of  pretended  unconsciousness. 

On  just  such  frail  evidence  as  this  has  many  an  innocent  girl 
been  ruined — in  just  such  a  manner  as  this  has  a  perfectly  pure 
being  been  dishonored — in  the  present  case  the  trick  did  not  suc¬ 
ceed  with  Grey ;  he  deemed  his  ward  the  victim  of  some  foul  plot, 
though  the  weight  of  his  displeasure,  and  even  suspicion,  fell 
solely  upon  the  banker. 

Grey  had  of  late  received  some  disagreeable  intimations  respect¬ 
ing  the  standing  of  Letitia’s  suitor,  and  for  this  reason  had  put  off 
his  ward’s  marriage ;  he  now  entered  into  a  close  investigation  of 
the  gentleman’s  position,  and  ascertained  privately  that  whatever 
the  original  standing  of  the  banker  he  was  now  not  worth  a  dol¬ 
lar  ;  that  he  was  recklessly  engaged  in  hopeless  speculations,  and 
altogether  Grey  felt  assured  that  his  intent  was  to  dishonor  Letitia, 
in  the  hope  to  secure  in  that  way  her  hand  and  a  portion  of  her 
protector’s  fortune,  and  he  was  forbid  the  house. 

But  the  poor  innocent — what  were  her  sufferings  at  this  time  ? 
they  were  terrible  but  brief — spotless  as  she  was,  when  she  awoke 
and  realized  the  perfidy  of  the  man  whom  she  thought  the  soul 
of  honor,  neither  her  consciousness  of  innocence,  nor  the  earnest 
asseverations  and  solemn  oaths  of  Grey,  that  he  was  fully  as' 
sured  she  was  both  truthful  and  pure,  could  afford  her  the  least 
comfort ;  she  felt  that  to  the  world  she  was  tainted  and  disgraced ; 
the  shock  was  too  great  for  her  to  bear,  and  she  fell  at  once  into 
a  brain-fever. 

Why  her  life  was  spared  to  enter  upon  deeper — rather  upon 
real  degradation.  Providence  best  knows — perhaps  to  serve  as  a 
warning  to  parents  and  guardians  to  look  well  into  the  character 
of  those  whom  they  permit  their  daughters  and  wards  to  come 
in  contact  with,  and  perhaps  as  a  lesson  to  the  world,  that  mere 
circumstantial  evidence  is  often  the  most  baseless  of  testimony. 

The  work  of  the  heartless  conspirators  was  not  yet  over — the 
banker  had  been  driven  from  the  field,  but  the  ward  had  not  yet 
been  separated  from  her  protector — the  niece  judging  by  her  own 


43 


base  heart,  feared  Letitia  might  recover,  and  making  the  best  of 
her  position  fly  to  the  banker  and  entreat  him  to  marry  her ;  she 
felt  that  if  Letitia  could  in  some  way  be  utterly  disgraced,  then 
she  might  herself  acquire  a  sufficiency  of  her  uncle’s  property  to 
secure  the  banker’s  hand  and  save  her  own  honor ;  she,  therefore, 
under  the  advice  which  she  or  her  brother  had  obtained  from  a 
noted  procuress,  proceeded  to  the  commission  of  a  deed  the  very 
lowest  and  vilest  in  the  whole  catalogue  of  crimes. 

For  every  earthly  sin,  there  is  a  check,  a  punishment,  and,  as 
is  well  known,  in  the  physical  as  well  as  the  moral  world,  the  re¬ 
sults  following  the  commission  of  sins  do  not  always  fall  upon 
transgressors  alone — for  the  sin  of  impurity  there  is  a  physical  in¬ 
fliction  as  shocking  in  its  effects,  as  it  is  disgraceful  in  its  origin ; 
innocent  persons  sometimes,  though  very  rarely,  have  acquired  it 
from  coming  in  contact  with  inanimate  substances,  proving  that 
it  may  be  conununicated  by  vaccination. 

Leader,  the  above  paragraph  explains  as  fully  as  is  here  fitting 
the  nature  of  a  crime,  for  the  commission  of  which,  all  that  can  be 
said  apologetically,  is,  that  it  no  doubt  took  the  combined  incen¬ 
tives  of  love,  jealousy,  pride  and  despair,  to  induce  a  woman  to  per¬ 
petrate  it — hut  it  was  accomplished — and  when,  after  some  months 
of  sickness  and  prostration,  Letitia  recovered — she  learned  her 
guardian  had  left  for  Europe  never  to  return — meeting  with  none 
but  cold  and  averted  looks  from  all  around  her,  she  took  the  check 
Grey  had  placed  in  her  physician’s  care,  and  in  accordance  with 
his  earnest  advice,  she  left  home  and  all  its  once  happy  surround¬ 
ings  for  the  retirement'  and  solitude  of  a  neighboring  city,  having 
been  consigned  to  a  poor  but  worthy  widow  lady  there,  at  the  • 
instance  of  her  clergyman,  who  deeply  grieved  over  her  sup¬ 
posed  fall.  To  the  kindly-meant  but  bitter  and  unmerited  advice  of 
her  pastor,  that  “  she  would  strive  to  pass  the  rest  of  her  days  in 
penitence  and  virtue,”  she  replied  not  a  word;  her  heart  had 
changed  to  stone ;  it  was  too  hard  to  break ;  if  it  had  any  feeling  left 
it  was  that  of  scorn  of  her  whole  race,  that  she,  most  innocent 
in  her  every  thought  and  deed,  should  be  cast  out  of  society  with 
the  brand  of  impurity  on  her  brow ; — but  her  cup  of  misery  was 
not  yet  full ;  her  late  protector’s  nephew  traced  her  to  her  residence, 
and  made  dishonorable  proposals  to  her;  bearing  to  her  at  the 


44 


same  time  a  letter  from  his  sister, — who,  still  afraid  that  Letitia 
might  stand  between  her  and  the  banker,  (needless  fear,  the  poor 
girl  hated  him  worse  than  all) — in  which  was  inclosed  a  note  writ¬ 
ten  by  Letitia’s  physician  to  Girey,  and  bearing  date  of  the  day  only 
which  preceded  his  departure ;  one  line  of  this  note  indicated  the 
cause  both  of  G-rey’s  departure  and  desertion.  It  ran  thus :  “  It  is 
a  fact,  my  dear  sir,  which  duty  compels  me  to  disclose  to  you^  that, 
in  addition  to  her  apparent  illness,  I  have  cured  your  ward  of  a 
disease,  the  presence  of  which  is  indubitable  evidence  of  dishonor.” 

“Women  are  more  intense  than  men;  so,  better  if  good,  and 
worse  if  bad,”  says  a  distinguished  lecturer;  and  can  you  wonder, 
reader,  that  this  hapless  young  woman,  who  “  had  wrongs  that 
would  stir  a  fever  in  the  blood  of  age,  and  make  the  infant’s  sinews 
strong  as  steel,”  should  after  this  have  become  a  very  fiend  as  it 
were,  and  prey  without  remorse  upon  either  sex.  ...  We 
drop  the  vail  over  her  after  deeds,  but  must  philosophize  upon  her 
case,  lest  the  evil  which  she  and  others  like  her  have  done  may 
seem  to  have  been  more  than  an  offset  for  the  wrongs  they  suf¬ 
fered,  and  hence  a  sort  of  back-handed  justice  cry  “  quits”  in  the 
case.  We  look  upon  such  beings  as  morally  insane,  and  conceive 
they  are  permitted  to  prey  upon  society — to  avenge  their  wrongs 
upon  the  community — as  a  punishment  to  society  for  its  indiffer¬ 
ence  to  their  wrongs,  and  its  obtuseness  to  the  real  causes  of  their 
faU. 

The  reputation  of  a  woman  is  every  thing.  The  least  crock  of 
impurity  is  almost  fatal  to  her,  and  as  the  whitest  paper  will  give 
the  strongest  relief  to  a  stain,  so  are  the  best  and  most  amiable 
affected  by  calumny. 

“Appearances  are  against  her,”  are  blighting  words  in  the 
mouths  of  the  good  and  truthful;  how  easy  for  the  evil-disposed 
to  contrive  those  appearances,  and  compel,  as  it  were,  the  good 
and  true  honestly  to  give  them  utterance.  How  many  noble 
women  have  been  ruined  by  calumny;  by  mere  circumstantial 
evidence.  We  could  give  hundreds  of  instances  where  the  base 
seducer,  finding  all  other  means  to  fail,  has  resorted  to  means 
similar  to  the  above  to  effect  his  objects,  and  by  exciting  envy, 
jealousy,  fear,  or  avarice,  in  other  women’s  breasts,  secured  their 
co-operation. 


45 


The  case  of  Miss  Lavinia  C.,  which  was  tried  in  the  Municipal 
Court  at  Boston,  was  a  very  remarkable  case  of  this  character ; 
remarkable  no  less  from  the  appearance  of  the  defendant,  than  for 
her  fortunate  escape  from  the  fatal  grasp  of  circumstantial  evi¬ 
dence  which  had  been  accumulated  against  her.  The  charge  was 
the  larceny  of  a  little  money  and  a  few  clothes  from  her  room-mate, 
the  sole  object  being  to  blast  her  character  and  make  her  perfectly 
hopeless,  and  reckless  of  the  future. 

Young,  not  over  twenty,  good  looking,  but  rather  lady-like  than 
beautiful,  unprotected  and  alone,  she  rose  in  the  prisoner’s  dock, 
and  undertook  her  own  defense.  She  examined  and  cross-exam¬ 
ined  the  witnesses  with  almost  professional  acuteness ;  and  at  the 
close  she  turned  to  the  jury  and  addressed  them. 

The  government  had  the  usual  evidence  arrayed  against  her, 
of  the  property  being  found  in  her  trunk  or  possession.  With  a 
sweet  and  plaintive  voice,  she  related  to  the  jurymen  the  story  of 
her  life ;  how  she  had  sailed  to  this  port,  with  her  lover,  from  the 
distant  state  of  South  Carolina,  under  a  solemn  promise  of  mar¬ 
riage  ;  how  he  deceived,  and  then  left  her  at  a  boarding-place, 
whose  character,  when  discovered,  she  was  horrified  at,  and  the 
attempts  of  whose  inmates  to  complete  her  utter  ruin  she  had 
resisted,  and  thereby  secured  their  ill-will ;  all  she  knew  of  this 
matter  with  which  she  was  cruelly  charged  was,  that  in  her  open 
trunk  the  missing  things  were  found.  But  of  this  alleged  theft 
she  called  God  to  witness  she  was  entirely  innocent. 

Her  pure  appearance,  standing  in  the  dock  among  the  horrid 
gang  of  sinners,  blistered  with  inveterate  vices,  was  like  a  youth¬ 
ful  angel  in  purgatory.  Her  words  were  not  backed  up  by  evi¬ 
dence — from  the  nature  of  the  case  they  could  not  be — but  the 
confirmation  of  their  veracity,  strong  as  Holy  Writ,  spoke  from  her 
gentle  eyes,  her  placid  face  and  pure  demeanor;  these  were  a 
shining  witness  for  her,  and  opened  her  prison  doors. 

While  she  spoke,  that  vulgar  court-room,  where  so  much  that 
is  infernal  passes  in  daily  procession,  seemed  attentive  as  to 
strange  and  unaccustomed  music.  The  district  attorney,  with  a 
warm-hearted  candor,  declined  to  urge  the  jury  to  convict  her. 
The  Judge  (Nelson)  charged  them  fully,  but  with  great  feeling. 
There  were  tears  in  his  voice,  if  not  in  his  eyes,  as  he  did  so ;  and 


■when  at  the  conclusion  the  jurj,  magnetized  as  it  were  by  her 
look — which  seemed  to  say,  “God  makes  you  feel  that  I  am  inno¬ 
cent,” — promptly  acquitted  the  maiden,  the  whole  audience,  the 
villains  in  the  dock,  the  ministers  of  justice  in  the  bar,  the  specta¬ 
tors  connected  with  the  criminals,  all  seemed  to  feel  the  sympathy 
of  denizens  of  pandemonium  for  the  escape  of  a  spirit  of  the 
upper  air,  to  its  congenial  sunshine. 

The  remarkableness  of  this  case  is  still  more  noticeable  from 
the  escape  of  the  victim.  We  have  known  some  persons  convict¬ 
ed,  and  others  whose  character  was  tainted  for  life,  on  testimony 
of  this  identical  sort ;  the  whole  thing  being,  as  wo  believed,  the 
contrivance  of  interest  or  malice. 

The  presumption  of  the  law  is,  that  the  person  in  whose  pos¬ 
session  stolen  goods  are  found  is  prima  facie  guilty,  and  must  then 
prove  his  innocence ;  practically  defeating  the  benign  maxim  of 
the  common  law,  that  “every  man  is  presumed  innocent  till 
proved  guilty.” 

In  the  case  of  this  poor  girl,  how  could  she  prove  her  innocence  ? 
She  saw  no  fatal  fingers  thrust  the  stolen  goods  into  the  accusing 
trunk ;  if  she  had  seen  them,  she  could  not  have  been  allowed  to 
testify  to  it,  for  a  defendant  cannot  testify.  Suppose  this  poor 
girl  had  not  been  blessed  with  an  appearance  and  an  address  so 
prepossessing,  or  had  not  been  so  calm  and  self-possessed,  she 
would  to-day  have  been  in  a  felon’s  cell,  hopelessly  demoralized. 
We  have  heard  the  agonizing  shrieks  of  condemned  unfortunates, 
echoing  through  the  vaulted  chambers  of  justice  (?) ;  prisoners 
who  protested  and  swore  to  their  innocence,  and  against  whom 
nothing  but  such  prima  facie  evidence  had  been  presented.  Un¬ 
supported  testimony  of  this  character  we  pronounce  the  meanest 
and  most  inane  of  all  admitted  evidence  ;  the  trick  which  too  often 
originates  it  is  a  stale  one ;  the  eyes  of  jurors  should  be  open  to 
it,  and  we  trust  the  case  above  presented  will  be  quoted  in  every 
court  where  occasion  calls  for  it.  It  was  tried  at  the  Municipal 
Court,  held  at  Boston,  Thursday,  Sept.  17,  1857. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Advertising  Traps — Street  Introductions. 

While  the  nets  of  the  procuresses  are  openly  spread  in  our 
public  thoroughfares  in  the  form  of  mock  intelligence  offices,  the 
signs  of  these  same  nefarious  traders  in  female  virtue  hang  out  by 
scores  in  our  city  newspapers ;  nor  is  this  all — male  villains  also 
display  their  cards  in  the  public  prints,  and  play  both  procurer  and 
debauchee  on  their  own  private  account. 

AU  fortune-telling  advertisements^  and  nine-tenths  of  the  “matri¬ 
monial”  and  “governess”  and  “house-keeper  wanted”  notices 
that  appear  in  such  papers  as  admit  the  first-named,  are  intended 
as  traps  to  catch  unwary  females,  or  as  placards  to  direct  reckless 
women  where  to  throw  themselves  away. 

Leaving  the  fortune-tellers  for  the  succeeding  chapter,  we  pro¬ 
ceed  to  investigate  the  matrimonial  advertisements;  the  rascals* 
who  put  tliese  forth  not  only  calculate  upon  catching  the  heedless, 
short-sighted,  and  scheming,  but  count  largely  upon  trapping  the 
curious.  Their  object  is  to  commence  an  acquaintance  and  secure 
the  confidence,  or,  failing  that,  the  true  name,  residence  and  hand¬ 
writing  of  their  correspondents,  turning  these  latter  to  profitable 
account  in  a  way  we  shall  presently  expose. 

In  all  cases  their  object  is  money,  or  evil,  or  both ;  and  rarely 
has  a  virtuous  female  answered  one  of  these  notices  who  has  not 
had  great  cause  to  regret  it.  It  is  hard  to  conceive  how  any 
honest  women,  unless  half-witted,  could  venture  upon  so  foolish 
an  act  as  to  reply  to  these  suspicious,  because  skulking  advertise¬ 
ments  ;  but  heedless  people  will  do  such  things,  and  hence  the 
value  of  our  book. 


L 


FORTUNE-TELLEBS'  dens. 

*'  We  little  dream  what  eyes  are  upon  us. 


49 


Not  many  years  since  a  coterie  of  damsels  at  the  west  part  of 
the  city,  who,  though  pretty  well  advanced  in  their  teens,  had  not 
yet  arrived  at  years  of  discretion,  and  who,  having  escaped  from 
school — been  finished — had  nothing  to  do  but  plot  mischief, 
constituted  themselves  a  “  board  of  correspondence”  to  take  up, 
and  covertly  reply  to,  these  matrimonial  advertisements.  They 
met  regularly  twice  a  week  at  the  residence  of  a  wealthy  widower, 
whose  eldest  daughter  presided  over  his  establishment,  and  who 
used  to  dispatch  her  colored  servant  at  the  edge  of  evening  and 
by  the  back-door  to  the  B — y  and  U — n  S — r  Post-offices,  to  de¬ 
posit  letters  and  bring  away  answers. 

For  a  time  things  went  on  very  smoothly  and  amusingly ;  the 
club  declined  to  hold  communication  with  any  correspondents 
whose  letters  did  not  exhibit  good  taste  and  a  pretty  thick  veil 
of  delicacy,  and  by  culling  and  gleaning  soon  found  themselves 
engaged  in  a  brisk,  witty,  and  decidedly  agreeable  pen-and-ink 
chit-chat  with  whom  purported  to  be  several  young  gentlemen  of 
“  fortune  and  standing;”  and  supposed  they  had  so  managed  things 
as  effectually  to  secure  their  incognita. 

But  alas !  one  bright  forenoon,  when  there  was  a  “  full  meeting 
of  the  board,”  and  they  were  engaged  in  opening  the  delicate  en¬ 
velopes  which  were  directed  in  beautiful  styles  of  penmanship  to 
“  Amelia,”  and  “  Florence,”  and  “  Julia,”  and  so  on,  through  a  list 
which  gave  a  romantic  name  to  each  fair  member  of  the  coterie, 
and  which  letters  had  been  brought  to  the  house  the  previous 
evening  by  their  especial  mail-carrier, — when,  with  a  merry  laugh 
of  expectation  they  had  broken  the  seals  which  stood  between 
them  and  the  fond  lines  of  a  “  dear  Clarence,”  or  “  Herbert,”  or 
“'W'illiam,”  what  was  their  surprise  and  terror  to  find  inclosed 
second  envelopes,  whose  superscriptions,  taken  collectively,  gave 
the  right  street  and  number  of  the  residence,  and  in  most  instances 
the  proper  surname  of  the  members  of  their  entire  circle. 

Their  perturbation  was  greatly  heightened  when  the  young  lady 
of  the  house,  the  “president  of  the  board,”  came  to  read  to  them 
the  letter  especially  addressed  to  her.  It  was  to  the  effect  that 
a  satchell  filled  with  exquisite  billet-doux,  in  the  several  hand' 

writing  of  the  company  who  regularly  assembled  at  No. - 

street,  was  in  the  possession  of  the  writer  (who  signed  himself 
5 


50 


Claude  Duval,”)  which  he  should  be  most  happy  to  exchange 
for  suitable  “  keep-sakes and  for  that  purpose  he  should  be  in 
front  of  the  house  that  very  day  before  the  usual  hour  of  ad¬ 
journment  ;  and  sure  enough,  while  they  were  discussing  the 
subject,  he  made  his  appearance. 

It  seem^  that  some  of  this  club  of  systematic  advertising 
swindlers  had  placed  themselves — as  was  probably  their  custom — 
near  the  letter-deliveries,  and  had  overheard  the  colored  servant 
inquire  for  some  of  the  letters  they  had  answered,  and  ^o  followed 
her  home ;  the  large  number  of  these  letters  which  she  called  for, 
and  watching  round  the  house,  gave  them  a  knowledge  of  the  ex¬ 
istence  of  this  ladies’  convention,  each  member  of  which  was 
traced  to  her  residence,  and  her  name  taken  for  granted  to  be  that 
which  appeared  upon  the  door-plate. 

Through  their  mail^agent,  the  colored  woman,  a  negotiation  was 
at  once  opened  by  the  frightened  damsels  with  Claude  Duval,  and, 
by  parting  with  some  watches,  chains,  and  jewelry,  which  the 
gentlemanly  recipient  in  his  parting  note  declared  he  should  ever 
look  upon  as  forget-me-nots  of  this  adventure,  the  now  sobered 
and  wiser  damsels  recovered  their  letters,  and  each  internally 
vowed  never  to  answer  another  matrimonial  advertisement,  or  if 
she  did,  to  be  very  choice  in  the  matter  she  indited,  and  not  to  ex¬ 
pose  herself  by  making  use  of  her  natural  hand- writing. 

Other  instances  could  be  related  where  dangerous  curiosity  or  a 
mere  spirit  of  fun  led  to  more  disagreeable,  because  more  per¬ 
sonal  consequences,  such  as  where  two  young  ladies  were  an¬ 
noyed  by  the  would-be  attentions  of  two  men  of  well-known 
disreputable  character,  and  who  held  some  foolishly-worded  letters 
as  a  whip  over  their  heads.  'We  think,  however,  we  have  said 
enough  to  deter  our  fair  readers  from  venturing  upon  dangerous 
sport  in  this  direction. 

The  following  are  specimens  of  some  of  the  deceptive  and 
villanous  advertisements  which  disgrace  many  of  our  city  jour¬ 
nals;  the  three  last  are  taken,  comments  and  all,  from  the  “New 
York  Ledger;”  two  of  them,  it  will  be  observed,  are  from  the 
opposite  or  feminine  side  of  the  house,  and  are  given  in  order  to 
fully  illustrate  the  system  of  vile  advertising  which  is  constantly 
going  on  in  supposed  respectable  journals : 


■61 


i  YOUNG  SOUTHERN  GENTLEMAN,  INTELLIGENT, 
ix  amiable  and  honorable,  wishes  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a 
young  lady  not  over  twenty  years  of  age,  with  a  view  to  matri¬ 
mony,  Address,  for  one  week,  Lavater,  box  126  Herald  office. 


Matrimonial.— A  young  man,  24  years  of  age, 

of  prepossessing  appearance  and  ample  means,  who  has  but 
little  time  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  ladies,  wishes  to  open  a 
correspondence  with  a  lady  between  the  ages  of  18  and  22,  with 
a  view  to  matrimony.  She  must  be  of  an  amiable  and  confiding 
disposition,  and  well  versed  in  good  society.  Money  no  object. 
All  communications  will  be  treated  with  the  utmost  propriety. 
Address  Walter  H.,  box  109  Herald  office. 

Vy ANTED. — By  a  Widower,  a  Governess  for  two  children,  five 
T  T  and  seven  years  of  age.  A  young  lady  of  good  manners  and 
of  fine  personal  appearance  would  be  preferred,  though  a  young 
widow  without  children  might  be  accepted.  The  most  liberal 
salary  will  be  paid,  and  the  situation  will  in  every  way  be  render¬ 
ed  as  agreeable  as  possible.  Address, - ,  &c. 


“  This  advertisement  amounts  to  nothing  less  (or  more)  than  an 
invitation  to  the  fairest  portion  of  the  fair  sex  in  general,  for  one 
of  their  number  to  sell  her  character  and  happiness  to  the  adver¬ 
tiser,  for  ‘  a  liberal  salary’  and  the  ‘  most  agreeable  situation 
possible,’  under  the  disguise  of  acting  as  a  governess  to  his  two 
children.” 


Matrimonial. — a  widow  lady,  aged  35,  thoroughly  edu¬ 
cated  and  accomplished,  possessing  some  property,  and  a  very 
genteel  personal  appearance,  desires  to  form  a  congenial  matri¬ 
monial  alliance.  A  widower  or  bachelor  possessing  education, 
business  habits,  and  a  respectable  station  in  society,  if  sincere, 
may  address  the  advertiser.  The  highest  references  for  respecta¬ 
bility  will  be  given  and  required.  Address,  &c.,  &c. 


“  It  makes  us  blush  for  our  kind  to  know  that  such  a  gull-trap  as 
the  above  will  catch  victims.  And  yet  five  minutes’  refiection 
would  convince  any  half-sensible  person  that  the  injurious  trash 
we  have  quoted  is  not  genuine.  Would  a  woman,  such  as  the  one 
described  in  the  advertisement,  be  likely  to  fish  for  a  husband  in 
such  a  disgraceful  way  ?  A  well-to-do,  good-looking  widow  of 
thirty-five,  possessed  of  property  too,  hunt  for  a  husband  through 
.  the  newspapers  1  Folly.” 


52 


TO  AUGUSTUS. — Return  to' your  darling,  devoted  “Petite.” 

She  won’t  be  naughty  any  more,  and  will  send  Ponto  away  if 
he  snaps  at  you  again.  At  the  usual  place  at  seven.  Don’t  fhil, 
if  you  would  not  make  your  “  Petite”  miserable. — Au  revoir. 

“If  ‘Augustus’  can  hold  out  after  such'  an  appeal,  then  his 
heart  must  be  harder  than  the  Sphinx’s.  The  offer  of  the  ‘  dar¬ 
ling,  devoted  Petite’  to  sacrifice  even  ‘  Ponto’ — the  name  prob¬ 
ably  of  her  other  pet  poodle — upon  the  altar  of  her  affection  is  a 
proof  of  devotion  such  as  it  does  one  good  to  contemplate  in  a 
girl  of  the  present  day.  Therefore,  we  hope  that  Augustus  will 
be  ‘  at  the  usual  place  (wherever  that  is)  at  seven’  to  a  minute, 
that  the  devoted  Petite  may  not  be  ‘  made  miserable.’  ” 

Of  the  same  stamp  as  the  above  are  very  many  of  the  advertise¬ 
ments  for  a  “Ladies’  Companion,”  the  lady  in  this  case  who  wants 
a  companion  being  easily  divined. 

“  A  housekeeper  in  a  respectable,  pious  family”  would  find  her¬ 
self  most  likely  refused,  who  was  not  decidedly  comely  and  at¬ 
tractive. 

“  A  young,  intelligent  lady,  who  has  no  objection  to  travel  in 
Europe  with  a  family  in  the  capacity  of  companion  to  an  only 
daughter,”  might  possibly  in  six  months  be  as  virtuous  as  when 
she  set  out,  but  the  chances  would  be  very  much  against  her. 

All  these  advertisements  are,  to  say  the  least,  very  dangerous, 
though  some  of  them  are  bona  fide.  Some  opinion  may  be 
formed  by  the  character  of  the  paper  in  which  they  appear.  But 
the  only  true  way  to  distinguish  the  genuine  from  the  spurious  is 
to  require  of  the  advertisers  the  most  unexceptionable  references. 
No  respectable  young  lady,  who  has  any  regard  for  her  future  re¬ 
putation,  should  place  herself  in  such  intimate  relations  with  any 
family  whose  antecedents  will  not  bear  the  test  of  a  fair  scrutiny, 
or  who  object  to  such  scrutiny. 

The  adventures  of  “  Dr.  Hayne,”  “Lyon,”  and  “Wentworth,” 
whose  history  was  recently  published  all  over  the  land,  and  by 
whom  scores  of  girls  were  betrayed  to  their  ruin,  show  the  scope 
and  character  of  these  advertisements.  Lyon  particularly  boasted 
that  he  had  accomplished  the  seduction  of  more  than  twenty 
girls,  and  that  in  nearly  every  case  the  acquaintance  had  com- 


63 


menced  by  means  of  newspaper  advertisements.  Many  of  these 
were  answered  by  mere  school-girls  in  the  pure  spirit  of  fun  and 
frolic,  but  it  led  to  their  ruin,  thus  illustrating  the  truth  of  the 
old  adage,  “  ’Tis  dangerous  playing  with  edge  tools  I” 

This  class  of  scoundrels,  some  of  whom  move  in  high  life, 
sometimes  get  well  come  up  with  if  not  punished  for  their  base¬ 
ness.  The  most  amusing  case,  as  we  conceive,  on  record,  of  where 
these  biters  got  bit,  is  the  following,  in  which  a  mischief-loving 
girl  and  her  brother  took  leading  parts — the  only  safe  connection 
in  which  a  woman  could  partake  in  such  questionable  sport. 

The  young  lady  wrote  the  letters,  and  the  brother  saw  in  per¬ 
son  or  by  messenger  to  the  delivery  of  them  as  the  authors  of  the 
advertisements  specified.  But  the  two  plotters  did  not  confine 
themselves  to  such  notices  as  they  found  in  the  newspapers ;  they 
concocted  several  new  styles,  and  had  them  liberally  displayed  in 
the  papers;  and,  as  a  consequence,  had  any  quantity  of  com¬ 
munications,  not  a  few  of  which  were  very  elegant  both  in  matter 
and  chirography. 

After  toying  a  while  with  the  fish  she  had  thus  hooked,  and 
fighting  shy  of  giving  to  the  impassioned  youths  who  had  shower¬ 
ed  their  billet-doux  upon  her,  any  set  time  for  a  personal  inter¬ 
view,  Clara  (for  such  was  the  name  she  assumed)  at  last  decided 
to  bring  the  whole  matter  to  a  “grand  finale.” 

She  selected  from  among  her  host  of  correspondents  some 
twenty-five  or  thirty  of  such  as  herself  and  brother  judged  held 
'the  best  positions  in  society,  and  addressed  to  each  individual  a 
beautifully-written  note,  in  which  she  declared  that  she  could 
no  longer  resist  a  desire  to  obtain  a  sight  of  the  gentleman  who 
had  dictated  to  her  such  charming  letters;  and  if,  the  second 

evening  from  the  date  of  her  epistle,  he  would - 

*  *  *  *  played  that  night,  and  the  house  was  crowded ; 
between  the  second  and  third  acts  of  the  tragedy,  some  twenty 
fine-looking  young  or  middle-aged  gentlemen,  who  were  seated 
near  the  center  of  the  parquet,  each  dressed  in  black,  wearing 
white  vests,  and  with  each  a  small  bouquet  in  the  right  hand,  and 
a  cane  under  the  left  arm,  might  have  been  seen  to  rise  simul¬ 
taneously  with  the  fall  of  the  curtain,  and,  turning  their  backs 
to  the  stage,  gaze  inquiringly  round  as  if  expecting  a  token  of 
5* 


64 


recognition  from  some  one  of  the  bright  galaxy  of  beauties  which 
adorned  the  first  tier. 

.At  first  a  titter  and  then  almost  an  uproar  of  laughter  from 
several  of  the  boxes  caused  them  to  turn  their  looks  either  way, 
and  each  man  became  conscious  that  there  were  some  twenty  fac¬ 
similes  of  himself  present,  and  that  this  singular  circumstance 
was  not  only  rapidly  calling  to  them  the  attention  of  the  whole 
audience,  but  that  himself  and  counterparts  had  been  victimized, 
and  ’were  the  sole  cause  of  the  unusual  levity  which  had  for  the 
time  overset  the  customary  propriety  of  the  “  first  tier.” 

There  was  soon  a  desperate  scramble  among  these  twenty  gen¬ 
tlemen  in  fool’s  livery  to  get  out  of  that  parquet,  and  out  of  that 
house ;  during  which  a  nephew  and  an  uncle,  who  made  parts  of 
the  score,  were  led,  in  their  haste,  to  recognize  each  otlier  in  a 
rather  unceremonious  manner. 

The  getter-up  of  this  humorous  affair  was  present,  and  enjoyed 
the  denouement  exceedingly;  the  plan  had  worked  admirably; 
during  the  second  act  the  brother  had  been  round  to  several  of 
the  boxes,  to  advise  friends  of  the  fun  in  prospect,  taking  the 
whole  credit  of  the  scheme  and  its  workings  upon  himself,  in  order 
to  shield  his  sister ;  but  the  severe  lecture  Clara  got  from  one  of 
her  cousins  for  “making  such  a  fool  of  him,”  indicated  that  one 
person  at  least  was  confident  she  was  entitled  to  the  largest  share 
of  the  honors. 

As  a  matter  of  course,  these  scheming  advertisers  urge  a  speedy 
interview  upon  their  correspondents ;  this  they  propose  shall  be 
at  some  daguerreian-room,  picture-gallery,  or  first-class  saloon,  and 
oftentimes  upon  the  street,  some  plausible  reason  being  given 
for  secrecy  in  the  matter ;  and  any  woman  whose  curiosity  will 
lead  her  to  take  this  first  weak  step  will  be  pretty  sure  to  be  led 
to  commit  some  indiscretion  which  will  place  her  in  the  base 
schemer’s  power,  and  who,  by  threatening  exposure,  will  lead  her 
deeper  and  deeper  into  his  nets. 

Another  system  of  attack  is  the  forcing  an  introduction  upon  an 
unsuspecting  woman  through  some  specious  pretense.  Every 
lady  likes  to  be  considered  polite  and  civil,  and  therefore  is  led  to 
acknowledge  in  an  amiable  manner  any  little  civihty  that  may 
be  paid  her ;  designing  men,  in  the  garb  and  with  the  manners  of 


66 


g;entlemen,  are  very  ready  to  take  advantage  of  this  circumstance, 
and  therefore  keep  on  the  look-out  for  chances  to  render  little 
services,  and  where  occasions  do  not  exist,  to  create  them.  They 
carry  in  their  pockets  a  lady’s  portmonnaie,  a  broken  pin  or 
.  chain,  and,  making  of  this  their  letter  of  introduction,  present  it 
to.  some  lady  they  have  singled  out,  as  something  she  may  have 
dropped.  This  h^  been  done  in  the  street,  in  the  omnibus,  in 
the  cars,  and  even  at  the  residence  of  the  lady ;  the  whole  object 
being  to  commence  an  acquaintance,  and  trust  to  art  and  chance 
for  accomplishing  some  evil  out  of  it.  A  man  of  this  stamp 
having  once  fancied  he  had  made  an  impression  upon  a  lady  who 
had  only  graciously  returned  his  smile,  and  given  him  a  bow  un¬ 
der  the  impression  that  she  had  been  somewhere  properly  intro¬ 
duced  to  him,  devised  the  plan  of  calling  upon  her  with  a  ver}’- 
valuable  shawl  which  he  said  his  porter  had  picked  up  in  front  of 
his  store,  and  the  wrapper  of  which  being  marked  Mrs.  B — n,  (the 
name  upon  the  door-plate)  he  thought  it  might  possibly  belong  to 
her.  The  lady  saw  through  the  matter  at  once,  took  the  shawl 
into  another  room,  came  back,  thanked  him  for  his  trouble,  and 
said  if  he  would  wait  half  an  hour  her  husband  would  thank  him 
also ;  or  if  ho  would  leave  his  card,  and  set  his  time,  her  spouse 
would  certainly  call  upon  him,  and  suitably  acknowledge  his  kind¬ 
ness  and  civility.  A  few  weeks  later  the  shawl  was  on  sale  at  the 
fair  of  a  benevolent  institution. 

Ladies  should  bo  very  chary  about  passing  words  with  strangers, 
however  well-appearing ;  the  very  gentlemanly-looking  man  who 
has  just  done  you  a  perhaps  desirable  little  civility  may  be  a 
pick-pocket  or  gambler,  or,  worse  than  either,  a  wealthy  libertine 
— and  this  suggestion  it  would  be  well  for  every  one  of  our  women 
readers  to  give  heed  to,  down  to  the  poorest  shop-girl. 

It  is  hardly  necessary  for  us  to  say  that  no  greater  insult  can 
be  offered  by  a  man  to  a  decent  woman  than  for  him  to  take  it 
for  granted  that  she  will  walk  and  talk  with  him  without  a 
suitable  introduction.  Of  course  this  is  rarely  attempted,  unless 
under  some  flimsy  pretense  such  as  we  have  named,  or  that  of  mak¬ 
ing  the  mistake  of  supposing  her  to  be  Miss  Smith,  or  Brown,  or 
Jones.  The  woman  thus  addressed  may  be  assured  that  she  is 
taken  for  one  who  is  no  better  than  she  ought  to  be,  and  if  she 


56 


does  not  cut  the  intruder  short  at  once,  she  is  neither  so  wise  nor 
self-respecting  as  she  ought  to  be.  “Get  out  from  under  my 
feet  or  I  will  tread  upon  you;”  “Sir,  if  you  are  a  gentleman,  pro¬ 
tect  me  from  this  ruffian;”  “Policeman,  I  demand  that  you  arrest 
this  villain,”  are  all  expressions  which  have  been  used  vuth  most 
excellent  results  by  women  who  have  been  annoyed  by  these 
street-curs  in  men’s  clothing.  And  very  rarely  will  a  respectable 
woman  appeal  in  vain  to  a  passer-by  under  such  circumstances. 

The  only  favorable  termination  to  one  of  these  forced  intro¬ 
ductions  that  we  know  of  is  embraced  in  the  following  incident ; 
it  presents,  however,  no  argument  in  favor  of  the  practice: 

In  the  early  part  of  an  October  evening,  a  young  woman,  plainly 
dressed,  like  to  a  shop-girl,  was  diligently  wending  her  way  home 
alone  through  one  of  the  principal  streets  of  Baltimore.  A  gen¬ 
tleman,  attracted  by  her  fine  form  and  graceful  bearing,  followed  her, 
and,  as  she  turned  off  into  a  bye-street,  came  up  and  addressed 
her  with  a  “good  evening,  madam.”  The  mild,  pleasant  manner 
in  which  he  spoke  made  the  girl  for  a  moment  suppose  it  was 
really  an  acquaintance  that  addressed  her;  and  she  turned  as  if  to 
reciprocate  the  salutation ;  but  seeing  that  the  gentleman  was  an 
utter  stranger,  she  hastened  on  without  a  word. 

“  If  my  presence  is  disagreeable,  I  will  leave ;  I  do  not  wish 
to  annoy  you,”  was  the  man’s  second  remark; — no  answer; — 

“  Madam,  will  you  permit  me  to  walk  with  you,”  he  then  urged. 

“Sir,”  said  she,  continuing  her  steps,  “you  look  like  a  gentle¬ 
man,  and  you  speak  like  a  kind-hearted  one — how  can  you,  then, 
be  so  cruel  as  to  insult  a  poor  working  girl ;  is  it  not  enough 
that  we  have  to  waste  our  strength  in  hard  labor  for  our  sup-  ** 
port ;  must  the  late  hours  our  toil  forces  us  at  times  to  keep  be 
taken  advantage  of  to  abuse  and  annoy  us  on  the  street  ?” 

“  Madam,  I  stand  convicted,  and  beg  your  pardon ;  permit  me 
your  acquaintance,  and  perhaps  I  may  attain  a  better  character 
in  your  estimation.” 

“iVo,  sir!"  said  she;  “a  street  acquaintance,  begun  under  such 
circumstances,  can  end  in  no  good ;  I  ask  you,  as  a  gentleman, 
to  leave  me.” 

“  Tell  me  the  church  you  attend,  and  I  will.” 

“What I — ^would  you  persecute.me  in  God’s  house,  sir?” 

\ 


67 


''  Upon  my  honor  as  a  man  I  will  not  go  near  it  without  your 
permission.” 

“I  do  not  understand  your  object;  but  will  say,  that  I  attend 
the - Church  in - street.” 

The  stranger  thanked  her,  and  took  his  leave ;  an  hour  after  he 

called  upon  the  minister  of  the - Church  in - street ;  the 

next  day  he  called  again  along  with  one  of  the  most  respectable 
merchants  in  Baltimore:  and  a  fortnight  later  he  attended  the 
said  church,  by  the  young  lady’s  permission ;  for  she  had  her  arm 
in  his  as  if  to  show  him  the  way. 

First  fascinated  by  her  appearance,  next  touched  by  her  ap¬ 
peal,  and  third,  struck  by  her  self-possession  and  prudence,,  he 
was  probably  more  quickly  and  completely  immersed  in  a  love- 
bath  than  was  ever  any  mortal  that  preceded  him ;  the  minister 
endorsed  the  character  of  the  shop-girl  (she  was  a  member  of 
his  church),  and  the  city  merchant  of  the  gentleman  himself;  and 
a  "Western  trader  took  home  with  him  one  of  the  best  women  and 
wives  that  can  be  found  in  the  whole  Hoosier  state. 

But  beware,  romantic  girls,  that  this  our  story  do  not  lead  you 
into  difficulties.  We  have  but  shown  you  just  the  kind  of  trap 
and  bait  used  by  base  libertines  to  catch  the  weak  among  you — 
at  all  events,  read  owr  next  chapter^  before  you  build  another  castle 
in  the  air. 


FOKTUNE-TELLEES’  DUPES. 

“  How  easy  to  foretell  what  you  yourself  planned, 


CHAPTER  YI. 


New  York  Fortune-Tellers. 

Mankind,  and  especially  womankind,  naturally  run  after  a  bit 
of  mysticism,  and  this  weak  characteristic  of  the  children  of  Eve 
and  Adam  is  largely  taken  advantage  of  by  the  crafty  and  de¬ 
signing. 

Fortune-tellers  are  very  rarely  heard  of  in  the  rural  districts, 
save  in  the  shape  of  some  old  woman,  who  manipulates  a  pack  of 
greasy  cards,  or  reads  the  fates  by  means  of  prophetic  tea-grounds ; 
but  those  of  our  readers  who  suppose  that  astrology,  palmistry, 
geomancy,  and  the  other  scientific  mysteries  of  the  black  art  are 
unknown  to  now-a-day  Yankees,  are  laboring  under  a  very  chari¬ 
table  delusion. 

Our  curious  readers  have,  no  doubt,  read  the  “Astrological” 
advertisements  which,  year  in  and  year  out,  occupy  the  corner  of 
some  of  our  city  papers,  and  have  smiled  at  the  execrable  English 
therein  displayed,  all  the  while  indulging  in  a  kind  of  innocent 
wonder,  as  to  whether  those  transparent  nets  ever  catch  any  gulls; 
whether  there  are  really  any  people  in  our  city  who  put  trust  in 
“charms”  and  “love-powders,”  and  who  have  faith  in  the  pro¬ 
phetic  infallibility  of  a  pack  of  playing-cards.  If  any  one  is  per¬ 
sistently  skeptical  on  this  point  he  had  better  investigate  for  him¬ 
self;  meanwhile,  we  assure  him,  and  the  public,  that  there  are 
hundreds  of  people  in  our  good  city  of  New  York,  who  actually 
believe  that  the  ruling  powers  of  heaven  and  earth  have  revealed 
the  programme  of  futurity,  to  be  retailed  at  fifty  cents  a  dose,  to 
those  snuffy,  ignorant  old  women,  who,  if  the  eyes  and  noses  of 
their  visitors  be  credible  witnesses,  live,  for  the  most  part,  in  » 


60 


state  of  choice  personal  filthiness,  which  nothing  less  than  a  second 
deluge  can  remove,  or  even  mitigate. 

It  may  open  the  eyes  of  these  innocent  querists  to  the  vulgar 
popularity  of  the  witchcraft  of  1858,  to  hear  that  the  nineteen  she- 
prophets,  who  advertise  in  the  newspapers  of  this  city,  are  visited 
every  week  by  an  average  of  sixteen  hundred  persons,  of  whom, 
probably,  three-quarters  place  implicit  confidence  in  the  miserable 
stuff  they  hear  and  pay  for. 

It  may  also  open,  still  wider,  their  wondering  optics,  to  learn 
that,  although  a  part  of  these  visitors  are  ignorant  servants,  unfor¬ 
tunate  girls  of  the  town,  or  weak-minded,  imbecile  young  men, 
still  there  are  among  them  not  a  few  influential  professional  men, 
and  some  merchants,  of  good  credit  and  repute,  who  periodically 
consult  these  women,  and  are  actually  governed  by  their  advice, 
in  business  matters  of  great  moment. 

It  is,  also,  often  the  case,  that  ladies  of  wealth  and  social  posi¬ 
tion,  who  are,  we  presume,  otherwise  discreet,  are  led  by  curiosity, 
or  other  motives,  to  enter  these  places,  for  the  purpose  of  having 
their  fortunes  told.  When  these  ladies  are  informed  of  the  true 
character  of  the  houses  they  have  thus  penetrated,  and  the  real 
business  of  many  of  the  women,  whose  fortune-telling  is  merely  a 
screen  to  intercept  the  public  gaze  from  it,  we  presume  that  no 
one  of  them  will  ever  compromise  her  reputation  by  another 
visit  to  these  dangerous  places. 

People,  who  know  any  thing  about  the  subject,  wdll  not  be  sur* 
prised  to  hear,  that  most  of  these  humbug  sorceresses  are  now,  or 
have  been,  in  more  attractive  days,  women  of  the  town,  and  that 
some  of  their  present  dens  are  vile  assignation-houses,  in  which 
female  visitants  will  be  secretly  seen  and  overheard,  and,  perhaps, 
traced  home,  by  the  rankest  debauchees.  Nor  will  they  be  sur¬ 
prised  to  hear,  that  these  chaste  sybils  are  guilty  of  infant-murder ; 
or,  like  the  mock  intelligence -office  men,  have  an  understood  part¬ 
nership  with  the  keepers  of  houses  of  ill-fame.  Indeed,  the  greater 
part  of  these  female  fortune-tellers  are  but  doing  their  allotted 
part  of  the  work  of  wholesale  seduction,  which  we  have  asserted 
has  become  so  thoroughly  systematized  in  this  city. 

In  this  branch  of  the  vile  business,  the  fortune-teller  is  the  only 
party  whose  operations  may  be  known  to  the  public ;  the  other 


61 


workers — the  masculine  go-betweens,  who  lead  the  victims  over 
the  space  intervening  between  her  house  and  those  of  deeper 
shame — are  kept  very  carefully  out  of  sight. 

To  expose  the  part  these  pernicious  procuresses  take  in  the  ter¬ 
rible  dramas  of  seduction  and  crime  constantly  going  on  here,  is 
the  object  of  this  chapter.  For  a  more  full  detail  of  their  general 
operations,  we  would  refer  the  reader  to  a  work  soon  to  be  is¬ 
sued,  called  the  “  Witches  of  New  York.”  What  we  most  desire 
now,  to  fix  upon  the  mind  of  our  reader,  is,  that  there  is  a  straight 
path  between  the  fortune-teller's  den  and  the  brothel^  which  has  been 
traveled  every  year  by  hundreds  of  betrayed  girls,  who,  but  for 
the  superstitious  snares  of  the  one,  never  would  have  known  the 
horrible  realities  of  the  other. 

Most  young  girls,  particularly  those  that  have  not  been  brought 
up  under  the  most  careful  and  discreet  system  of  education,  have 
had  their  heads  filled,  at  a  very  early  age,  with  nonsense  about 
lovers.  The  constant  perusal  of  the  lower  order  of  novels  has,  of 
course,  much  to  do  with  this;  servant-maids,  and  sewing-girls, 
and,  in  fact,  most  young  women  who  have  to  earn  their  daily 
bread  by  any  kind  of  manual  labor,  and  who  have  neither  time 
nor  opportunity  for  rational  recreation,  seize  upon  the  first  reading 
within  their  reach,  which  is,  generally,  those  pernicious  works  of 
fiction  known  as  yellow-covered  novels.  Nor  is  this  all;  there 
is  scarce  a  copy  of  the  popular  weeklies  issued,  that  does  not  con¬ 
tain  a  chapter  spiced  with  intrigue  or  seduction ;  so  that  a  child 
scarce  begins  to  read  before  its  mind  becomes  tainted  with  evil. 
Every  one  of  these  readers  soon  fancies  herself  a  heroine,  and  has 
her  lovely  bosom  stuffed  with  her  sentimental  sorrow  and  romantic 
woe.  She  is  constantly  on  the  watch  for  the  “young  prince,” 
or  what,  in  this  country,  is  about  the  same  thing,  the  “  rich  south¬ 
erner,”  who  is  to  come  and  carry  her  off,  and  make  her  mistress 
of  a  splendid  mansion,  with  troops  of  servants,  black  or  white,  to 
do  her  bidding. 

From  tliis  sort  of  exciting  trash  to  books  that  are,  in  reality, 
palpably  obscene,  the  transition  is  easy;  and  many  a  girl  finds 
herself  reading,  with  pleasure,  a  very  objectionable  book,  from  the 
pages  of  which  she  would  have  turned  with  loathing  only  a  few 
6 


02 


months  before ;  and  thus  is  prepared  to  yield  herself  readily  to 
temptatioa. 

To  see  how  the  fortune-teller  performs  her  part,  let  us  suppose 
a  case. 

A  young,  credulous  girl,  whose  mind  has  been  poisoned  by  the  - 
class  of  fictions  above  referred  to,  is  induced  to  visit  a  modem 
witch,  for  the  purpose  of  having  her  “  fortune  told.”  The  woman 
is  very  shrewd,  and  perceives,  in  a  moment,  the  kind  of  customer 
she  has  to  deal  with.  Understanding  her  business  well,  she  is 
perfectly  aware  that  love  and  marriage — courtship,  lovers,  and 
wedded  bliss — are  the  subjects  which  are  most  agreeable,  and  lays 
her  course  accordingly. 

She  begins  by  complimenting  her  customer;  “such  beautiful 
eyes,  such  elegant  hair,  such  a  cliarming  form,  and  graceful  man¬ 
ners,  are  altogether  too  fine  for  a  servant  or  working-girl.”  She 
must  surely  be  intended  for  a  higher  station  in  life,  and  she  will 
certainly  attain  it.  She  will  rise  in  the  world,  by  marriage,  and 
will  one  day  be  one  of  the  finest  ladies  in  the  land.  Her  husband 
will  be  the  handsomest  man  she  has  ever  seen,  and  her  children 
will  be  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world.  Fortune-tellers  always 
foretell  many  children  to  their  female  customers ;  for  the  instinct 
of  maternity,  the  yearning  desire  for  offspring  is  one  of  the  strong¬ 
est  feelings  of  human  nature. 

Much  more  of  this  sort  is  said ;  and  if  the  witch  finds  her  talk 
eagerly  listened  to,  she  knows  exactly  how  to  proceed.  She  ap¬ 
points  days  for  other  visits ;  for  she  desires  to  get  as  many  half- 
dollars  out  of  her  dupe  as  she  can.  Meantime,  the  girl  has  been 
thinking  of  what  she  has  heard,  has  pictured  to  herself  a  brilliant 
future — a  rich  husband — every  luxury  and  enjoyment — and,  upon 
the  whole,  has  built  so  many  castles  in  the  air,  that  her  brain  is 
half  bewildered.  Even  though  she  may  not  believe  a  tittle  of  what 
is  said  to  her,  feminine  curiosity  will  generally  lead  her  to  make  a 
second  visit ;  and  when  the  fortune-teller  sees  her  come  upon  a 
like  errand,  a  second  time,  she  sets  down  her  prey  as  tolerably 
sure,  and  lays  her  plans  accordingly. 

She  goes  on  to  state  to  the  girl,  in  her  usual  rigmarole  style, 
that  she  will,  in  a  few  weeks,  meet  with  a  lover ;  and  perhaps  she 
may  receive  a  present  of  jewelry ;  and  by  that  she  will  know  that 


68 


the  “  handsome  young  man”  has  seen,  and  been  smitten  by,  her 
many  charms. 

When  the  half-believing  girl  has  gone,  the  scheming  sorceress 
calls  to  her  aid  her  confederate  in  the  game — the  party  who  is  to 
personate  “  the  handsome  young  man.”  This  is  usually  a  spruce¬ 
looking  fellow,  who  makes  this  particular  kind  of  work  his  regular 
business ;  or  it  may  be  some  rich  debauchee,  who  is  seeking  an¬ 
other  victim,  will  come  and  lie  in  wait,  either  behind  the  curtain, 
or  in  the  next  room,  where,  through  some  well-contrived  crevice, 
he  can  see  and  hear  all  that  is  going  on.  One  or  the  other  of  these 
men  it  is  that  is  to  assist  the  witch  in  fulfilling  her  prophecies ; 
who  is,  at  the  proper  time,  to  be  in  the  way,  to  personate  the 
“young  beau,”  or  “rich  southerner,”  and  to  induce  her  to  visit  a 
house  of  assignation,  or,  in  some  way,  accomplish  her  ruin. 

Persons  who  have  been  puzzled  to  know  how  many  of  the 
young  fellows  get  their  living  who  are  seen  about  town,  always 
well  dressed,  and  with  plenty  of  cash,  and  yet  having  no  appar¬ 
ently  respectable  means  of  getting  their  living,  will  find  a  future 
solution  of  their  questions  in  this  explanation.  Many  of  these 
men  are  “kept”  by  their  mistresses,  or  by  the  proprietors  of  houses 
of  ill-fame ;  in  the  latter  case,  to  make  acquaintance  with  strangers, 
and  to  bring  business  to  those  houses.  They  are  often  very  fine- 
looking  and  well-appearing  men,  and  possessed  of  good  natural 
abilities ;  but,  from  laziness,  or  crime,  or  some  other  cause,  adopt 
the  meanest  possible  business  a  man  can  stoop  to.  Humiliating 
as  this  may  seem,  and  degrading  as  it  is  to  poor  human  nature, 
what  we  state  is,  nevertheless,  the  literal  truth. 

But,  to  come  back  to  our  supposed  case.  A  few  days  after  her 
visit  to  the  witch,  the  girl  actually  does,  perhaps,  receive  a  pres¬ 
ent,  as  the  witch  predicted ;  this  not  only  pleases  her  vanity  and 
love  of  admiration,  but  disposes  her  to  put  confidence  in  the  powers 
of  the  fortune-teller  to  read  coming  events.  Straightway  the  de¬ 
luded  girl  goes  again  to  the  witch,  to  tell  how  things  have  follow¬ 
ed  out,  as  she  foretold,  and  to  seek  further  light  upon  the  subject. 
It  is  now  the  cue  of  the  prophetess  to  describe  the  young  man. 
This  she  does  in  glowing  terms ;  never  failing  to  endow  him  with 
a  large  fortune ; .  and  the  poor  girl  goes  away  with  her  head  more 
turned  than  ever. 


f 


64 


Some  of  these  “fortune-tellers”  advertise  that  they  can  “show 
the  likeness  of  the  future  husband,”  which  is  done  in  a  mysterious 
way,  by  having  the  person  look  in  a  dark  sort  of  box,  where  the 
dim  outline  of  a  human  face  is  just  visible,  and  which  may  look 
as  much  like  one  man  as  another ;  but  which  is  never  distinct 
enough  to  leave  any  decided  impression  on  the  mind,  unless  the 
fortune-teller  has  some  particular  object  in  view. 

Enraptured  with  a  description  of  the  person,  or  sight  of  the  pic¬ 
ture,  of  her  supposed  fond  lover,  the  deluded  girl  is  now  all  anxiety 
to  see  him  in  person.  The  witch  accordingly  gives  her  some  mag¬ 
ical  powder  (price  one  dollar,  or  more),  which  she  is  to  put  under 
her  pillow  every  night,  for  seven  nights,  or  wear  next  her  heart 
for  nine  days,  or  some  other  nonsense  of  that  kind,  at  the  end  of 
which  time,  she  is  told  to  take  the  ferry-boat  to  Hoboken,  or  some 
such  place,  at  about  such  an  hour  in  the  afternoon,  and  some¬ 
where  on  her  route  she  will  have  a  sight  of  the  gentleman  she  is 
now  almost  crazed  to  see.  The  result  is  plain — an  acquaintance 
commences,  and  the  girl  is  ruined. 

We  have  thus  been  particular  to  give,  step  by  step,  the  details 
of  the  mode  of  management  pursued  in  these  cases.  There  are,  of 
course,  many  varieties,  dictated  by  the  circumstances  of  each  case, 
but  the  general  features  and  the  result  is  the  same.  The  incidents 
above  narrated  are  the  outlines  of  a  real  case,  in  which  the  end 
of  the  conspirators  was  accomplished ;  the  girl,  however,  was  res¬ 
cued  by  the  managers  of  the  Magdalene  Asylum,  and  is  now  lead¬ 
ing  a  blameless  life. 

As  a  case  in  point,  and  on©  too  which  exemplifies  the  terrible 
retribution  which  sometimes  overtakes  the  wicked,  we  give  the 
following  statement  of  an  affair  that  happened  not  long  since  in 
a  western  state. 

A  woman,  named  Marks,  who  had  long  practiced  the  profession 
of  a  fortune-teller  in  this  city,  was  united  to  a  man  who  had 
been  a  professional  burglar  and  thief.  He  had  accumulated  a 
considerable  fortune  by  his  desperate  course  of  life,  and  when  he 
married  Mrs.  Marks,  they  decided  to  go  and  .spend  their  honey¬ 
moon  where  they  were  not  known,  and  could  live  respectable ; 
and  accordingly  Marks  purchased  a  farm  near  a  flourishing  village 


65- 


in  Kentucky,  where,  with  his  wife,  he  resolved  to  spend  several 
years. 

She  having  no  longer  any  occasion  to  practice  fortune-telling  for 
a  living,  did  it  for  amusement ;  she  invited  the  young  ladies  of  the 
neighborhood  into  her  house,  and  passed  many  a  long  evening 
revealing  to  them  the  secrets  of  the  stars,  and  foretelling  their 
several  destinies;  but  the  old  taste  for  intrigue  revived,  and  she 
soon  passed  from  amusement  to  evil,  the  destruction  of  female 
virtue  having  became  with  her  a  settled  habit,  if  not  an  uncon¬ 
trollable  passion. 

Many  of  her  prophecies  now  became  true,  because  she  had  an. 
object  in  having  them  fulfilled,  and  she  soon  acquired  a  great 
reputation  for  prophetic  skill,  and  as  Marks  appeared  wealthy,  and 
every  thing  about  his  house  and  family  seemed  correct,  young 
women,  far  and  near,  visited  the  place  without  hesitation  on  their 
own  part,  or  objection  on  the  part  of  their  friends. 

Among  the  young  ladies  of  the  village  was  a  very  beautiful 

girl,  named  Mary  C. - ,  who  seemed  to  take  an  especial  interest 

in  the  fortune-telling  powers  of  her  new  acquaintance.  To  this 
girl  she  promised  that  a  young  man  of  the  most  fascinating  de¬ 
scription  would  soon  make  his  appearance  in  the  place,  and  pay  her 
his  addresses. 

The  young  man  came  after  a  while,  in  the  person  of  a  rich  New 
York  debauchee;  and  as  among  the  greatest  places  of  interest  in 
the  neighborhood,  soon  found  his  way  (as  was  understood)  to  Mr. 
Marks’s  house,  and  to  the  hearts  of  the  young  ladies  who  visited  it. 
He  in  a  few  weeks  succeeded  in  ruining  this  young  lady,  and  the 
consequences  soon  became  apparent ;  on  being  questioned  by  her 
parents,  she  acknowledged  her  fall,  but  laid  it  as  much  upon  Mrs. 
Marks  as  to  the  very  amiable  and  pleasant  young  gentleman  her 
betrayer.  This  declaration  led  to  a  storm  of  indignation  against 
Marks,  who  plead  his  own  innocence  of  any  knowledge  of  the 
affair  while  it  w'as  transpiring,  and  as  the  young  man  quit  the 
place  at  once,  and  Mrs.  Marks  denied  her  participation  in  the  mat¬ 
ter,  the  public  ire  cooled  down,  until  another  young  lady,  the  vil¬ 
lage  teacher,  was  forced  to  tell  a  tale  similar  to  that  of  Miss.  C., 
except  that  Marks  himself  was  the  man  she  implicated. 

Public  opinion  was  now  roused  to  a  fever  heat  of  indignation, 
6* 


66 


and  word  was  sent  Marks  that  he  must  leave  the  state  within 
twenty-four  hours,  or  take  the  consequences.  At  the  end  of  that 
time  a  messenger  was  sent  to  Marks’s  house,  he,  meantime,  not 
having  taken  any  notice  of  the  warning.  The  man  found  the 
house  locked,  no  lights  visible,  and  no  appearance  of  the  place 
being  occupied;  as  he  turned  to  go,  however,  he  was  fired  upon 
from  one  of  the  upper  windows,  and  his  shoulder-blade  fractured 
by  a  bullet.  This  so  exasperated  the  neighbors,  who  had  com¬ 
bined  themselves  into  a  sort  of  vigilance-committee,  that  they 
concluded  to  attack  the  premises  at  once. 

They  therefore  proceeded  in  a  body  to  the  house,  and  while  a 
number  of  them  kept  their  rifles  steadily  aimed  at  the  upper  win¬ 
dows,  the  rest  set  fire  to  the  building  by  means  of  straw  laid  to 
its  foundation.  When  the  lower  story  was  quite  wrapped  in 
flames,  and  the  heat  must  have  been  intolerable  in  the  upper 
rooms,  several  shots  'were  fired  at  the  Lynchers,  but  without 
effect,  and  a  few  minutes  after  a  back  door  flew  open,  and  two 
persons,  in  male  attire,  rushed  at  full  speed  down  the  lane. 

The  Lynchers  gave  chase  immediately,  and  a  round  of  shots 
brought  down  one  of  the  fugitives  mortally. wounded ;  this  proved 
to  be  Marks ;  his  companion  took  to  the  bushes,  but  was  soon 
dislodged,  and  though  apparently  wounded  by  one  of  five  shots 
fired  at  the  moment,  was  not  brought  to  the  ground  until  some 
dozen  shots  had  taken  effect ;  this  proved  to  be  Marks’s  wife, 
dressed  in  man’s  clothing. 

This  was  the  terrible  end  of  a  burglar  and  a  fortune-teller  pro¬ 
curess,  and  our  country  friends  everywhere  should  bring  this  case 
to  mind  whenever  a  fortune-teller  makes  her  appearance  among 
them. 

After  the  exposure  given  above,  of  the  doings  of  .the  witches 
of  New  York,  we  judge  our  readers  will  deem  it  just  as  respect¬ 
able  to  visit  a  house  of  assignation  as  to  be  seen  entering  a 


Fortune-teller's  Den. 


ADVICE  TO  POOR  GIRLS. 


We  have  no  disposition  to  write  disparagingly  of  our  own  sex, 
but  duty,  at  this  time,  compels  us  to  say  to  poor  girls,  and  to  all 
girls,  that  one-half  the  men  are  scoundrels,  who  would  not  hesitate 
to  rob  a  woman  of  her  virtue ;  and,  of  the  other  half,  that  there 
are  but  very  few  who  have  not  need  to  repeat  the  prayer,  “  Lead 
us  not  into  temptation;”  therefore,  say  we,  to  woman,  triLst  man 
with  fear 

As  to  your  own  sex,  maiden,  it,  also,  has  need  to  repeat  the 
same  prayer,  and  often ;  not  that  you  are  inclined  to  evil,  but  that 
you  are  too  e&sWj  persuaded  into  it ;  too  easily  led  into  temptation. 
We  believe  you  to  be  purer-minded,  and  to  set  a  higher  value  up¬ 
on  purity,  than  man ,  but  we  also  believe,  God  made  you  powerless 
to  the  man  you  love^  and  therefore,  say  we,  to  young  women,  fear 
to  trust  yourselves. 

You  will  observe  that  our  aim  is  not  only  to  warn  you  of  Man’s 
treachery,  but  to  awaken  you  to  a  sense  of  your  own  weakness, 
and  thus  lead  you  to  avoid  placing  yourselves  in  Man’s  power. 
Carefully  note,  then,  the  first  wrong  advance,  and  draw  resolutely 
back  from  the  first  cross  ripple  of  evil,  lest  you  be  drawn  into,  and 
ultimately  engulfed,  in  the  great  Maelstrom  of  social  infamy. 

Valv£  your  honor  as  you  do  your  existence.  Let  the  circum¬ 
stances  be  what  they  may,  a  woman  cannot  part  with  her  virtue 
to  any  man,  without  sinking  at  once  in  his  esteem.  He  imme¬ 
diately  begins  to  despise  her,  and  she  as  soon  begins  to  despise 
herself.  No  matter  into  what  depths  of  suttering  and  want  she 
may  have  fallen,  she  enters  a  lower  depth  of  misery,  when  she 
parts  with  her  purity.  We  counsel  no  choice  of  sins,  but  still  con¬ 
fess  we  conceive  the  sin  of  abandonment  to  compare  unfavorably 
with  that  of  suicide ;  for,  in  the  latter  case,  instant  death  shuts  off 
all  future  crime ;  while,  in  the  former,  the  living  corpse  trails  after 
6 


i 


68 

it  a  whole  catalogue  of  sins,  and  not  unfrequently  brings  hun¬ 
dreds  to  its  own  terrible  fate,  by  innoculating  them  with  its  own 
corruption. 

Poor,  over-tasked,  abused,  hapless  workwoman,  envy  not  the 
gay  girls  who  flaunt  their  silk  and  laces  in  your  face  as  you  pass 
along  the  street ;  their  enjoyment  is  but  for  a  day,  and  their  sor¬ 
row  and  their  fear  come  over  them  every  night ;  excitement  and 
dissipation  may  make  them  animated  and  joyous  in  the  bright  sun, 
or  cheerful  gas-light,  but  their  dark  hours  bring  them  the  most  bit¬ 
ter  reflections ;  for  well  they  know  that  their  course  is  surely  down¬ 
ward;  that,  at  whatever  elevation  they  begin  their  sinful  career, 
each  day  as  it  passes  carries  them  nearer  and  nearer  the  Five 
Points,  Blackwell’s  Island,  or  the  Potter’s  Field,  and  none  ever 
become  so  hardened  as  not  to  call  up,  almost  daily,  this  sad  picture 
of  their  mournful  but  inevitable  fate. 

Resist  temptation,  then,  and  cling  to  your  personal  purity  as  you 
would  to  your  soul's  salvation. 

What !  is  not  this  enough  ?  Are  your  troubles  and  sufferings 
so  great  as  to  impel  you  to  risk  all  for  the  short  taste  of  pleasure 
a  courtesan’s  life  can  procure  you  ?  Let  us  tell  you  more,  then. 
Even  the  little  show  which  so  alluringly  meets  your  eye,  is,  to  a 
great  extent,  a  sham.  That  fresh-looking,  richly-dressed,  bejew- 
eled,  joyous-appearing  girl,  who  walks  so  dashingly  along  Broad¬ 
way,  and  who  one  would  suppose  had  at  her  command  every 
thing  her  heart  could  desire,  may,  in  fact,  be  the  poorest  of  the 
poor — the  veriest  slave  of  one  woman  and  the  vile  convenience  of 
many  men.  Every  particle  of  her  clothing  may  be  the  property 
of  her  landlady — her  gold  watch  and  jewelry  borrowed  for  the  oc¬ 
casion — and,  perhaps,  her  very  body  mortgaged  for  her  board. 
Unless  the  mistress  of  a  man  of  means,  there  is  scarce  a  courtesan 
in  New  York,  who  is  not  in  debt  to  her  landlady,  and,  as  a  con¬ 
sequence,  is  in  most  cases  compelled  to  surrender  herself  to  any 
man,  however  repulsive,  who  has — money. 

No  greater  disappointment  falls  to  the  lot  of  mortals  than  is  ex¬ 
perienced  by  nine-tenths  of  the  unfortunate  women  who  voluntarily 
adopt  a  life  of  abandonment,  in  the  vain  hope  of  securing  a  few  years 
of  ease  and  pleasure. 

But  the  picture  is  not  yet  complete.  A  late  case  came  before 


69 


our  courts,  which  developed  the  fact,  that,  in  this  city,  women 
have  been  inveigled  into  dens  of  infamy,  and  there  imprisoned  for 
months,  during  which  time  they  were  robbed  of  all  their  sinful 
wages,  beaten  and  other^vdse  brutally  abused;  and,  sometimes, 
when  escaping,  have  been  arrested  for  theft^  and  brought  back  by 
the  police,  beaten  again,  and  still  held  in  bondage. 

Can  more  be  said  to  deter  a  young  woman  from  entering  upon 
a  life  of  infamy  ? 

But  what  shall  we  say  to  you  who  have  already  been  betrayed 
and  outraged,  who  are  what  you  are,  not  by  your  own  free  will,  and 
who  see  nothing  before  you  but  the  dread  fate  we  have  predicted  ? 

Our  advice  is  that  you  make  instant  efforts  to  save  yourselves. 

If  you  have  already  “  loved  not  wisely  but  too  well,”  in  this  state 
the  law  (and  so  in  other  states)  will  give  you  redress.  In  New  York 
the  seducer  has  the  choice  of  the  penitentiary  or  marriage  with 
his  victim.  Let  not  shame  then  deter  you  from  demanding  of 
your  betrayer  the  fulJUnient  of  Ms  promises.  If  your  cause  be 
just,  let  both  hope  and  desperation  nerve  you  to  the  effort.  On 
the  one  hand  is  a  life  of  respectability,  and  on  the  other,  one  of 
infamy.  The  shame  of  a  half-hour’s  confession  may  save  you  from 
a  life  of  shame.  Go  at  once  then,  to  your  mother,  or  some  other 
kind-hearted  matronly  relative,  or  to  a  clergyman’s  wife,  and  leave 
it  to  them  to  acquaint  your  male  relatives  of  your  misfortune,  and 
if  they  be  men  they  will  see  you  righted  in  any  event,  and  the 
heart  and  sense  of  the  community  will  be  with  them. 

This  matter  of  shame  has  caused  thousands  of  girls  to  sink  into 
hopeless  misery,  who,  through  the  exercise  of  a  wise  determina¬ 
tion  on  the  part  of  themselves  and  protectors,  might  have  been 
saved  to  lives  of  respectability  and  usefulness.  Kuined  by  false 
promises,  or  fraud,  or  force,  they  have  preferred  suicide  or  a  life 
of  abandonment  to  an  exposition  to  their  friends  of  their  misfor¬ 
tune,  while  many  a  father  turns  an  unfortunate  daughter  from  his 
door  when  he  should  have  demanded  justice  for  her  of  her  be¬ 
trayer,  and  made  a  business  of  securing  it. 

This  sealing  of  the  lips  from  pride  or  shame  is  exactly  what  the 
seducer  counts  upon ;  and  hence  he  is  reckless  in  his  promises,  un¬ 
scrupulous  in  his  frauds,  and  daring  in  his  outrages.  The  com¬ 
munity  must  protect  itself  against  these  viUains  by  depriving 


TO 


them  of  this  feeling  of  security  and  impunity ;  it  must  take  the 
sense  of  the  law  (which  is,  that  the  man,  and  not  his  victim,  is 
justly  responsible  for  the  evil,)  as  its  guide,  and  by  zealously  en¬ 
couraging  and  aiding  the  injured  to  bring  all  seducers  to  speedy 
justice,  unmistakably  evince  that  it  is  now  prepared  to  vent  its 
scorn  and  indignation  upon  the  betrayer,  instead  of,  as  formerly, 
upon  the  betrayed. 

In  years  past  the  traffickers  in  female  virtue,  in  this  city,  have 
had  every  thing  their  own  way.  A  poor  innocent  girl  once  within 
their  toils  was  utterly  lost ;  if  inveigled  into  a  house  of  ill-fame 
she  would  be  imprisoned  there ;  and  even  should  she  get  a  note 
to  a  city  official  little  or  no  notice  would  be  taken  of  it.  With 
her  outside  clothes  purposely  kept  from  her,  what  sort  of  plight 
would  she  be  in  to  pass  through  our  crowded  thorou^fares 
in  search  of  the  Police-office ;  and  when  there,  how  could  she  be 
expected  to  stand  up  and  tell  the  story  of  her  unwilling  shame  to 
half-unbelieving  men?  What  sensitive  female  would  not  prefer 
suicide  or  the  remaining  where  she  was  to  this  ? 

Now,  thanks  to  Mayor  Tiemann,  who  has  taken  their  case  in 
hand,  the  well-meaning,  friendless  girl  can  pour  her  tale  of  sor¬ 
row  into  the  ready  ear  of  one  of  her  own  sex,  and  have  a  strong 
arm  put  forth  to  shield  or  rescue  her. 

Mrs.  Foster,  the  kind-hearted  matron  of  the  Tombs,  has  been 
instructed  to  give  an  especial  hearing  to  complaints  of  this  char¬ 
acter,  and  our  energetic  Mayor  has  given  such  directions  as  will 
place  policemen  at  her  disposal  when  necessary. 

We  state  this  on  authority. 

So,  deceived,  deluded,  or  abducted  young  woman,  take  cour¬ 
age  ;  if  you  wish  to  escape  from  a  life  of  infamy,  make  your  way 
to  the  street  and  to  Mrs.  Foster  at  the  Tombs ;  send  to  her,  or  to 
the  Mayor,  a  note  explaining  your  position  and  location,  and  a  gen¬ 
tlemanly  officer  will  bo  dispatched  to  rescue  you. 

If  you  have  been  betrayed  by  a  false  promise  of  marriage,  and 
your  cause  is  without  a  question  just,  bring  your  case  before  the 
Mayor,  for  his  words  are  as  applicable  to  tliis  as  to  other  cases,  in 
which  he  has  said — 

“  Send  all  the  unfortunates  to  me,  I  wiU  avenge  their  wrongs  and 
redress  their  injuries 


APPEAL  TO  THE  PUBLIC. 


World  of  fashion  and  of  money-getting,  turn  for  a  moment  your 
selfish  and  greedy  eyes  from  crinoline  and  laces — from  dollars  and 
dimes — and  take  one  realizing  look  at  a  strife  constantly  going  on 
before  you,  and  you  shall  see  a  sight  that  will  thrill  with  horror, 
even  that  seared  and  callous  thing,  the  Heart  of  the  World. 

Behold  an  army  of  women — not  of  warlike  Amazons  arrayed 
with  greaves  and  helmet,  with  waving  plume  and  glittering  shield, 
with  bended  bow  and  deadly  spear,  marching  proudly  forth  to 
defy  and  conquer  man  in  terrible  battle,  as  ’tis  said  was  done  in 
days  of  old — but  you  shall  see  an  army  of  helpless  maidens,  with 
no  protecting  armor  but  their  innocence,  and  only  the  conscious¬ 
ness  of  purity  to  guide  their  footsteps  amid  the  thousand  mines 
and  pitfalls  sunk  on  every  side  for  their  inexperienced  feet  by 
Man — their  arch-enemy  in  the  great  battle  of  life. 

The  story  of  some  vengeful  demon  slaughtering  yearly  a  thou¬ 
sand  virgins  in  a  single  province,  would  be  the  saddest  page  of 
history  ever  penned;  the  spectacle  of  a  host  of  ten  thousand 
young  women  going  forth  every  year  from  dear  homes  and  happy 
firesides  to  perish  in  some  cholera-infected  city,  would  be  the  most 
painful  sight  the  mind  could  conceive,  and  yet  this  terrible  pic¬ 
ture  is  fully  realized  in  the  terrible  fate — ^worse  than  death — 
which  surely  awaits  a  like  number  of  ill-starred  females  ever}' 
year,  in  this  our  city  and  vicinity — and  who  lifts  a  hand  to  pre¬ 
vent  it  ? 

Were  the  whole  United  States  army  to  be  destroyed  by  the 
plague  in  a  twelve-month,  how  startled  would  the  community  be? 
and  yet  a  mass  of  females,  equal  to  the  actual  force  of  the  Federal 
army,  perish  annually — are  changed  to  living  sepulchers  every 
year — and  who  lifts  a  hand  to  prevent  it  ? 

Government  can  see  in  this  thing  only  a  social  disease,  and 
treats  it  with  hospitals,  alms-houses,  and  prisons;  the  press  makes 
of  it  interesting  paragraphs  and  humorous  items;  the  pulpit 
preaches  temporal  and  eternal  condemnation  as  its  duty  in  the 


T2 


case ;  and  the  Magdalen  Societies,  like  a  few  life-boats  scattered 
amidst  a  wrecked  armada,  save  scarce  enough  to  make  a  count. 

Society  deals  only  in  palliatives ;  it  ignores  prevention^  the  only 
practical  remedy  for  this  monstrous  evil. 

And  what  can  it  do  in  the  work  of  prevention  ask  you?  We 
will  be  content  at  this  time  to  name  two  measures : 

First.  Improve  the  health  and  physical  condition  of  females 
among  the  upper  classes;  as  it  now  is,  three-fourths  of  them  be¬ 
come  invalids  when  they  become  mothers,  and  this  thing  of  itself 
sends  abroad  thousands  of  men  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  educa¬ 
tion,  position,  accomplishments,  and  wealth  to  back  them,  to 
prey  upon  the  middle  and  lower  classes.  This  excuse  is  in  the 
mouths  of  nine-tenths  of  the  men  claiming  to  be  respectable,  who 
support  hpuses  of  assignation.  Society  may  not  admit  the  suffi¬ 
ciency  of  the  excuse,  but  it  cannot  deny  the  fact  upon  which  it  is 
based. 

So,  effeminate  votaries  of  luxury,  indolence,  and  fashion,  you 
are  in  part  responsible  for  the  misfortunes  of  your  humbler  sisters, 
as  well  as  the  neglect  of  your  husbands. 

Second.  Society  should  encourage  marriages  among  the  hum¬ 
bler  classes  by  a  systematic  effort  to  place  agreeable  domicils — 
homes — within  their  reach.  Within  the  past  few  years  millions 
of  dollars  have  been  expended  in  tli^s  city  to  erect  palace-like 
stores  for  the  housing  of  goods — not  a  dollar  for  comfortable 
dwellings  to  shelter  the  head  of  the  class  whose  labor  created 
both  goods  and  buildings.  It  is  well  that  the  steamship-building 
story  of  employment  for  our  workingmen  proved  false,  for  the 
money  would  have  been  wasted  in  such  an  enterprise.  But  if  the 
millionaire,  whose  name  was  connected  with  that  myth,  wishes  to 
secure  for  himself  a  deeper  reverence  in  the  hearts  of  our  honest 
poor  than  could  the  erection  of  all  the  free  libraries  that  could  be 
built  between  the  Battery  and  Harlem ;  and  to  establish  for  him¬ 
self  an  honored  fame  that  will  endure  so  long  as  New  York  shall 
exist,  let  him  devote  his  immense  means  to  erecting  onodel  dwellings 
for  the  worthy  industrious  poor.  The  age  demands  this  move¬ 
ment,  and  lasting  honor  will  attend  the  man  who  takes  the  lead  in 
this  most  practical  means  for  the  prevention  of  every  species  of 
vice  and  crime  in  our  cities  and  elsewhere. 


■F 


WOMAN : 


“God’s  greatest  trust,  as  well  as  Heaven’s  best  gift  to  mac.” 


TRICKS  AND  TRAPS 


OF 


NEW  YORK  CITY. 


DESIGN  OF  THIS  WORK. 


The  object  of  this  book  is  to  guard  young  women 

AGAINST  THE  MOST  BLIGHTING  EVIL  THAT  CAN  POSSIBLY  ASSAIL 
THEM ;  to  warn  them  of  the  snares  and  temptations  that  beset 
them  everywhere — but  particularly  in  great  cities,  where  syste¬ 
matic  villains  and  systematic  villany  are  constantly  striving  to 
mesh  them. 

It  is  by  no  means  difficult  to  prepare  an  interesting  book  upon 
this  subject — one  which  will  be  eagerly  sought  after  and  read  ; 
but  the  strait  lies  in  leading  the  young  to  a  wholesome  contem¬ 
plation  of  the  evil  without  their  becoming  fascinated  by  it — to 
induce  fear  and  self-apprehension,  and  not  stimulate  a  dangerous 
curiosity — in  lifting  the  vail  and  exposing  the  character  and 
extent  of  the  sin,  and  still  be  able  to  neutralize  the  dangerous 
effect  of  so  vast  an  example. 

A  man  of  heart  may  well  deliberate  if  he  conceives  that  the  future 
of  even  orie  mortal  hangs  upon  his  pen;  and  hesitate  long  when 
he  knows,  whatever  the  merits  of  the  book  he  designs  to  put 
forth,  thousands  will  read  it  from  curiosity  alone,  and  be  influenced 
thereby  for  good  or  for  evil. 

The  writers  have  considered  all  this,  and  still  decide  to  go  on. 
They  conceive  there  is  not  a  particle  of  information  which  this 
book  contains,  which  will  not  reach  its  readers  in  some  way  if 
they  live  to  the  allotted  age  of  humanity.  How  much  better, 
then,  to  go  through  the  world  with  a  knowledge  of  its  dangers, 
and  our  own  weaknesses,  than  to  run  blindfold  among  snares  and 
pitfalls. 

Some  may  argue  that  information  of  this  character  should  be 
gradually  imparted  to  the  unsophisticated ;  that  they  should  grow 
in  knowledge  as  they  grow  in  years.  The  reply  is,  that  in  view 
of  the  character  of  the  matter  which  forms  the  staple  of  most  of 
the  weekly  sheets  which  now  reach  every  fireside  in  the  land,  the 
young  are  already  possessed  of  such  knowledge ;  they  have  the 
bane  without  the  antidote. 

1* 


INTRODUCTION  TO  PART  FIRST. 


It  requires  6,000  fresh  victims  to  supply  the  yearly 
demands  created  by  the  “  greatest  of  social  evils”  for  this 
city  of  (including  suburbs)  one  million  inhabitants,  and 
most  of  these  unfortunates  are  brought  to  their  infernal 
market  by  intrigue,  deception,  and  force;  they  are  the 
victims  of  ignorance,  heedlessness,  and  conspiracy.  Will 
any  one,  then,  question  the  necessity  of  a  work  of  warning 
like  to  this  of  ours? 

There  are  two  offenses  against  female  virtue  known  to 
the  laws.  First,  Seduction^  or  the  debauching  a  woman 
under  promise  of  marriage;  and.  Second,  Mahing  her  a 
courtezan^  or  accomplishing  her  ruin  for  the  purpose  of 
inducing  her  to  practice  indiscriminate  intercourse  for  sake 
of  gain. 

All  the  arts  practiced  in  the  first  division  of  this  subject 
are  put  in  play  to  bring  about  the  second;  but,  having 
faith  to  believe  that  most  cases  of  female  dissoluteness  are 
the  result  of  pecuniary  necessities,  and  therefore  confined 
mainly  to  the  lower  or  needy  classes,  we  shall  make  two 
divisions  of  the  subject,  taking  up  the  last  named  in  this 


7 


volnme,  and  reserving  the  equally  sad,  though  less  revolt¬ 
ing  portion  of  our  theme,  and  which  refers  mainly  to  the 
higher  classes,  for  Part  Second. 

We  cannot  help  again  recurring  to  the  responsibility  we 
feel  in  issuing  a  work  of  this  kind,  the  more  especially  as 
since  its  announcement,  our  publishers  have  received  numer¬ 
ous  orders,  signed  with  initials^  as  if  the  customer  classed  the 
book  among  the  “  yellow-covered”  literature  of  the  day, 
and  was  ashamed  to  be  known  as  its  purchaser. 

Now  we  wish  to  say  to  such  persons,  and  to  all  persons, 
that  our  principles  and  those  of  our  publishers  are  akin 
to  the  shade  of  our  book-covers — Quaker-like — that  is, 
straightforward,  open,  and  honest;  and  that  all  concerned 
are  agreed  that  if  our  books  are  found  to  be  doing  actual 
evil,  instead  of,  as  we  designed,  practical  good,  then  shall 
the  offensive  editions  be  burned,  and  the  offending  plates  be 
melted ;  and  we  hereby  invite,  and  pledge  ourselves,  kindly 
to  receive  and  carefully  to  consider,  any  strictures  upon  this, 
or  any  wmrk  of  our  series,  which  the  friends  of  good  morals, 
or  good  citizenship,  may  see  fit  to  send  to  us. 


DANGEROUS  ACQUAINTANCE. 


“A  stranger’s  card  is  a  poor  letter  of  introduction.” 


CHAPTER  I. 


% 

Procurers  and  Procuresses. 

Startling  as  is  the  assertion,  it  is  nevertheless  true,  that  the 
traffic  in  female  virtue  is  as  much  a  regular  business,  systematically- 
carried  on  for  gain,  in  the  city  of  New  York,  as  is  the  trade  in  boots 
and  shoes,  dry"  goods  and  groceries. 

Y'ithin  three  miles  of  the  City  Hall  are  four  hundred  houses  of 
ill  fame,  containing  not  less  than  four  thousand  abandoned  females ; 
and  the  police  returns  show  that  the  whole  number  of  professedly 
dissolute  women  in  New  York  cannot  be  short  of  twenty-jive  thou¬ 
sand;  and,  as  the  average  life  of  courtesans  is  about  five  years, 
and  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose  but  that  comparatively  few  wo¬ 
men  adopt  so  degrading  a  profession  from  choice,  the  reader  can 
easily  realize  what  a  host  of  unhappy  females  have  to  be  procured 
to  sustain  this  sad  army  of  unfortunates. 

These  ill-starred  women  are  but  to  the  slightest  extent  gathered 
from  the  higher  ranks  of  society ;  for  although,  in  those  superior 
social  circles  in  which  the  privileged  “upper  ten”  are  supposed 
only  to  revolve,  the  most  fearful  developments  of  crime  are  some¬ 
times  made,  they  fall  without  the  compass  of  this  first  part  of  our 
work ;  the  females  at  that  end  of  the  social  ladder  are  rarely  with¬ 
out  friends  who,  by  their  power  and  position,  are  enabled  to  de¬ 
mand  and  enforce  some  kind  of  redress  for  the  wrong  accomplished, 
and  to  compel  the  base  seducer  to  marry,  or  otherwise  provide  for, 
the  one  he  has  betrayed ;  wliile  the  villain  himself  very  seldom  has 
in  view  the  making  merchandise  of  his  victims. 

The  prey  sought  by  the  nefarious  traders,  whose  appellation 
heads  this  chapter,  is  found  in  the  middle  and  lower  ranks  of  the 
community ;  their  victims  are  gathered  from  the  ymarly  imports- 


10 


tions  of  young  girls  from  the  country,  who  come  here  to  learn 
trades  or  go  out  to  service ;  are  found  by  scores  among  the  desti¬ 
tute  classes  in  this  city  and  vicinity,  and  by  hundreds  in  the  emi¬ 
grant  ships  which  weekly  touch  our  wharves. 

It  is  a  mistake,  however,  to  suppose  that  all  these  ill-fated  wo¬ 
men,  who  are  leading  the  life  of  a  courtesan,  have  once  known 
virtue ;  for  it  is  a  melancholy  fact  that  hundreds  of  them  have 
never  been  else  than  what  they  are.  Inheriting  the  miseries  of  their 
parents,  they  were  inoculated  with  evil  from  their  very  babyhood, 
and  have  scarcely  experienced  one  sentiment  of  purity  and  good¬ 
ness  in  their  whole  weary  life.  It  is  necessary  to  realize  this,  in 
order  to  conceive  it  possible  for  a  woman  to  make  the  ruining  of 
her  own  sex  the  settled  business  of  her  life.  It  is  from  females  of 
this  stamp  that  the  most  noted  procuresses  spring,  and  who  are 
the  most  wicked  and  determined  in  their  efforts  to  lead  astray 
young  women,  and  to  keep  filled  the  ranks  of  those  hosts  of  fallen 
angels  with  which  all  large  cities  teem. 

These  soul-less  women  are  not  necessarily  denizens  of  Water- 
street  or  the  Five  Points,  clothed  in  unsightly  rags,  and  redolent 
of  bad  rUm  ;  they  pervade  the  social  scale  through  almost  every 
grade,  and  are  perhaps  quite  as  often  attired  in  silks  and  satins, 
and  beautified  with  the  costliest  cosmetics. 

The  higher  class  of  procuresses  frequently  pass  themselves  off  as 
the  wives  of  absent,  or  the  relicts  of  defunct  sea-captains.  Them¬ 
selves  of  American  or  English  birth,  they  assume  to  have  been 
orplians,  and  to  have  married  foreigners,  in  order  to  account  for 
the  limited  knowledge  their  acquaintances  have  of  their  antece¬ 
dents  ;  and,  aided  by  their  gray  hairs  (for,  with  such,  avarice  and 
intrigue  become  a  passion  increasing  with  their  years)  and  the 
partial  indorsement  of  “  gentlemen  of  respectability  and  standing,” 
whose  base  designs  they  are  serving,  these  female  “  serpents”  are 
enabled  to  move  in  a  quiet,  unobtrusive  way,  in  very  good  society, 
fanning  in  each  young  matron,  or  maiden,  every  indication  of  im¬ 
purity  their  keen  perceptions  detect,  and  effectually  seconding  the 
base  seducer’s  plots.  One  of  this  stamp,  the  pretended  widow  of 
a  West  India  sea-captain,  has  for  twelve  years  owned  a  handsome 
country-seat  in  one  of  the  New  England  States,  at  which  she 
passes  the  hot  months  in  the  most  respectable  manner ;  but,  true 


11 


to  her  instincts  and  her  tastes,  she  spends  most  of  her  time  at  her 
regular  business  in  this  city,  where  she  is  the  owner  and  secret 
manager  of  two  or  three  splendid  assignation  houses.  This  woman 
takes  frequent  jaunts  in  various  directions,  for  the  purpose  of  look¬ 
ing  up,  and  making  the  acquaintance,  and  learning  the  dispositions 
o^  handsome  and  unprotected  girls,  gay  young  widows,  and  vain 
and  discontented  wives, — with  the  sole  view  of  pointing  them  out 
to  dissolute  young  and  old  rascals,  who  pay  her  well  for  her  trouble, 
and  who  avail  themselves  of  this  information,  and  other  agencies, 
to  work  the  rain  of  those  parties,  without  further  aid  from  this 
cunning  and  heartless  monster. 

To  show  how  well  perfectly  unprincipled  women  can  bear  them¬ 
selves,  and  how  readily  people,  especially  country  people,  can  be 
taken  in  and  imposed  upon,  by  persons  whose  very  countenance, 
one  would  suppose,  should  bear  some  warning  impress  of  their  ne¬ 
farious  calling, — we  give  the  following  narrative,  taken  from  an 
English  book,  reserving  the  account  of  some  of  a  similar  character, 
occurring  nearer  home,  for  the  “  Second  Part”  of  this  work. 

“  While  one  of  these  ladies  was  on  a  visit  to  the  north  of  Scot¬ 
land,  escorted  by  two  of  her  young  female  friends,  the  post-chaise 
in  which  they  were  traveling  broke  down  near  the  parish  manse. 
The  benevolent  and  compassionate  minister,  seeing  three  well- 
dressed  females  in  a  state  of  considerable  distress  and  alarm  at  the 
accident  which  had  befallen  them,  stepped  forward  to  their  assist¬ 
ance,  and  gave  them  a  warm  invitation  to  retire  to  the  manse  till 
such  time  as  the  vehicle  was  repaired  and  ready  to  convey  them  on 
their  journey.  From  a  message  that  afterward  arrived  from  the 
carpenter  in  a  neighboring  village,  it  was  learned  that  it  was  impos¬ 
sible  to  repair  the  accident  earlier  than  the  following  morning; 
so  that  immediate  arrangements  were  made  to  accommodate  the 
ladies  for  the  night.  When  the  eldest  of  the  three  ladies  apolo¬ 
gized  for  the  trouble  they  had  reluctantly  brought  upon  the  fam¬ 
ily,  the  minister  expressed  sorrow  for  the  accident  which  had  de¬ 
tained  them  on  their  journey;  but  observed  that,  for  his  own  part, 
he  was  exceedingly  glad  of  any  accident,  unattended  with  danger, 
that  was  the  means  of  bringing  ladies,  with  whose  society  he  was 
so  delighted,  to  take  up  their  quarters  for  the  night  at  the  manse 
of - . 


12 


“  In  the  course  of  the  evening’s  conversation,  the  lady,  in  an¬ 
swer  to  some  questions  of  the  good  divine,  said  that  she  belonged 
to  Edinburgh,  that  the  two  young  ladies  who  were  along  with 
her  were  her  nieces,  and  that  her  object  in  visiting  the  North  was 
to  look  at  an  estate  in  Aberdeenshire  which  was  for  sale,  and 
which  she  had  some  intention  of  purchasing.  After  this  in¬ 
formation  he  appeared  more  anxious  than  ever  to  make  them 
comfortable;  and  repeatedly  apologized  for  not  being  able  to 
afford  them  better  accommodation,  and  expressed  himself  highly 
honored  at  having  individuals  of  their  rank  and  circumstances 
within  his  house.  The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  the  chaise 
arrived  which  was  to  deprive  the  reverend  gentleman  of  his  dis¬ 
tinguished  guests.  AU  the  inmates  of  - Manse  expressed 

their  grief  at  being  so  soon  deprived  of  their  pleasant  company ; 
but  hoped  that  the  period  was  not  far  distant  when  they  should 
again  be  honored  with  a  visit  from  them. 

“  In  return  for  his  hospitality  and  attention,  the  lady,  before  her 
departure,  presented  the  minister  with  her  card  and  address,  and 
requested  that  he  would  call  the  first  time  he  was  in  Edinburgh, 
and  afford  her  an  opportunity  of  returning  his  kindness,  which  he 
promised  to  do, 

“  Several  months  elapsed  before  the  respected  minister  of - 

had  an  occasion  to  visit  Edinburgh.  He  longed  more  ardently 
than  usual  for  the  next  meeting  of  the  G-eneral  Assembly,  not 
so  much  to  hear  or  take  part  in  any  important  question  affecting 
the  interests  of  the  Church,  as  that  he  would  then  have  an  oppor¬ 
tunity  of  calling  upon  the  distinguished  lady  whom  he  had  the 
honor  of  entertaining  at  his  manse. 

“  The  period,  at  length,  arrived ;  and  he  embraced  the  first 
leisure  moment  he  had  at  his  disposal,  to  present  himself  at  the 
number  of  the  street  indicated  by  the  card,  which  he  had  re¬ 
ceived  from  the  lady  at  her  departure.  He  was  shown  into  a 
spacious  and  weU-fumished  apartment,  where  he  remained  for 
about  ten  minutes  before  the  lady  made  her  appearance.  When 
she  entered  the  room,  she  felt  some  difficulty  in  recognizing  her 
reverend  friend,  but  on  his  intimating  that  he  was  the  minister  of 

- ,  she  welcomed  him  to  her  house  with  a  hearty  shake  of 

the  hand.  After  receiving  wine  and  cake,  and  spending  some 


V 


13 

time  in  conversation  with  her,  the  lady  pressed  him  most  kindly 
to  return  at  five  o’clock  and  take  dinner,  and  also  to  arrange 
matters  so  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  stop  at  night,  and  make 
her  house  his  home  so  long  as  he  remained  in  to-wn,  all  which  he 
readily  consented  to. 

“At  five  o’clock,  precisely,  he  returned  and  rang  the  door-bell 
of  his  respected  friend  and  entertainer.  Every  thing  which  he 
saw  convinced  him  more  and  more  of  the  high  rank  in  wliich 
fehe  moved.  The  dinner-table  was  most  tastefully  laid  out ;  the 
dishes  were  numerous  and  varied,  and  the  fascinating  society  of 
five  pretty  ladies  was  not  the  least  interesting  part  of  the  enter¬ 
tainment. 

“  After  dinner  the  young  females  retired,  and  he  saw  no  more 
of  them  that  evening,  but  spent  the  remainder  of  it  in  the  com¬ 
pany  of  the  old  lady  alone,  with  whose  shrewd,  pleasant,  and  un¬ 
affected  conversation  he  was  particularly  pleased  and  delighted. 
After  breakfast,  the  next  day,  a  walk  was  proposed,  to  which  all 
parties  agreed. 

“  The  reverend  gentleman  politely  offered  his  arm  to  the  old  lady, 
and  they  were  followed  by  two  of  the  young  females  whom  he 
had  seen  at  the  table  the  day  previous.  While  the  party  were 
walking  along  Princes-street,  they  accidentally  met  with  three 
friends  of  the  minister,  one  of  whom  made  a  kind  of  halt,  as  if  he 
wished  to  speak  to  him.  On  his  observing  this,  he  asked  per¬ 
mission  of  his  fair  companions  to  be  allowed  to  converse  with  his 
friend,  which  was,  of  course,  granted. 

“The  latter  at  once  inquired  who  the  lady  was  who  accom¬ 
panied  him.  He  immediately  related  to  him  the  fortunate  acci¬ 
dent  by  means  of  which  he  had  got  acquainted  with  her.  He  told 
him  that  he  dined  at  her  house  yesterday,  and  slept  there  all 
night,,  eulogizing,  at  the  same  time,  her  remarkable  mental  activity 
and  the  splendor  of  her  estabhshment. 

“  One  might  easily  conceive  the  good  man’s  surprise,  grief,  and 
astonishment  when  he  was  informed  by  his  friend  (who  no  doubt 
was  a  man  of  the  world)  that  the  lady  whom  he  so  highly 
esteemed,  and  whose  friendship  he  was  so  desirous  of  cultivating, 
'was  no  other  than  Mrs. - ,  the  most  noted  procuress  in  Edin¬ 

burgh.'" 


2 


14 


Now,  tliis  was  a  bad  position  for  any  gentleman  to  be  brought 
into ;  worse  for  a  minister,  and  would  have  been  still  worse  had 
the  minister  above  referred  to  been  accompanied  by  his  daughter ; 
and  the  lesson  taught  is,  that  no  gentleman,  and  particularly  no 
lady,  should  trust  to  appearances,  and  become  in  any  way  inti¬ 
mate  with  strangers  who  have  no  other  reference  to  give  than 
their  own  word  or  their  own  card. 

Ilf  is  women  of  this  stamp,  though  mostly  of  a  lower  grade  than 
the  above,  leagued  with  men  as  unscrupulous  and  lost  to  humanity 
as  themselves,  who  make  a  trade  of  seduction,  and  ruin  unsuspecting 
girls  ty  a  systematic  course  which,  for  its  perfect  working,  requires 
the  co-operative  efforts  of  persons  of  tooth  sexes. 

The  grand  center  and  lower  deep  of  this  infamous  system  is  the 
brothel ;  the  upper  and  outer  works  are  the  assignation  houses  and 
assignation  hotels;  the  main  recruiting  stations,  the  intelligence 
offices  and  fortune-tellers’  dens :  still  further  out,  its  infernal  meshes 
extend  in  the  shape  of  vile  books  and  pictures,  and  cunningly  con¬ 
trived  advertisements,  while  its  supporters  even  dispatch  agents  to 
the  shores  of  Europe,  to  return  in  the  emigrant  vessels,  and  enlist 
victims  all  the  voyage  home.  In  short,  like  the  banking  business, 
although  presenting  a  hundred  separate  firms  or  associations,  it 
forms  one  grand  system:  tout  its  capitalis  inf amy ;  its  circulating 
medium,  corruption;  and  its  dividends,  the  price  of  souls. 

The  men  (procurers)  who  co-operate  in  this  business  are  of  all 
grades,  from  the  buUy  and  pickpocket  to  the  genteel  “fancy  man:” 
these  latter  figure  somewhat  extensively  in  the  fortune-tellers’  de¬ 
partment,  as  we  shall  show.  They  are  generally  men  of  fine  per¬ 
sonal  appearance,  and  sometimes  of  fascinating  manners ;  but  in 
view  of  the  degrading  service  they  are  expected  to  render  their 
employers,  such  as  have  self-respect  or  manliness  remaining,  must 
view  themselves  as  ranking  far  below  the  most  common  street¬ 
walker. 

The  reader  can  now  see  that  the  parties  most  interested  in  this 
book  are  the  poor  working-girls :  we  are  unveiling  a  vast  system¬ 
atic  conspiracy  for  their  destruction ;  and  we  hope  no  false  deli¬ 
cacy  will  prevent  them  from  perusing  it.  We  think  they  will  find 
counsel  herein,  every  word  of  which  the  kindest  father  would 
approve. 


16 


This  book  is  published  in  the  hope  that  among  the  thousands  of 
females  in  this  city  who  are  engaged  in  book-binderies,  cap-fac¬ 
tories,  millinery  establishments,  or  in  many  other  of  the  numerous 
places  where  girls  are  employed,  there  will  be  found  many  willing 
readers  upon  whom  our  anxious  admonitions  will  not  be  thrown 
away ;  that  among  the  thousands  of  girls  scattered  all  through  the 
land,  who  contemplate  coming  to  this,  or  to  any  other  city,  to  earn 
their  livelihood  by  their  own  exertions,  there  are  hundreds  who 
will  read  this  book  and  be  benefited  thereby.  A  very  large  pro¬ 
portion  of  such  girls  are  without  protectors  to  point  out,  or  shield 
them  from,  the  untried  dangers  of  a  great  city.  They  must  depend 
upon  themselves,  and  what  avails  such  dependence  if  they  he  not 
enlightened  f 

To  set  before  these  girls,  in  the  plainest  terms  consistent  with 
delicacy,  the  various  devices  by  which  their  ruin  may  be  sought, 
to  show  them  where  lie  the  pit-falls  that  abound  on  every  side, 
and  to  make  a  plain  exposition  of  the  systematized  plans -to  rob 
them  of  their  virtue,  and  seduce  •r  coerce  them  into  dens  of  in¬ 
famy, — is  our  great  object. 

lilany  will,  perhaps,  turn  up  their  little  noses  in  scorn,  and 
hunch  \ip  their  little  shoulders  in  coquettish  disdain,  at  the  notion 
that  they  are  not  able  to  “  take  care  of  themselves but  there  will, 
nevertheless,  be  some  who  will  ponder,  reflect,  and  be  preserved 
to  fair  fame  and  virtuous  lives. 

A  publication  of  all  the  cases  of  wrong  and  outrage  that  have 
come  within  the  ken  of  the  police  of  this  city  within  the  past  year, 
would  make  a  small  library ;  to  reprint  the  comparatively  few  that 
have  been  known  to  the  public,  would  All  a  dozen  volumes ;  and 
even  a  list  of  the  attempted  and  accomplished  suicides  of  unhappy 
deserted  girls  would  be  too  long  for  this  book ;  but  we  shall,  nev¬ 
ertheless,  endeavor  to  illustrate  each  chapter  with  some  narrative, 
true  in  every  respect  (save  the  names),  and  all  the  particulars  of 
which  can  be  vouched  for  by  the  production  of  af&davits  which 
have  already  been  sworn  to  before  courts  of  justicq. 

Fair,  innocent  reader,  may  no  future  writer  be  able  to  present 
your  case  as  a  warning  example  I 


UEGENT  BUSINESS. 

“  My  dear  wife,  important  business  detains  me. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Assignation  Houses  and  Hotels. 

Evert  large  city  abounds  in  conveniences  for  the  gratification 
of  the  baser  passions  of  men,  and  among  the  great  variety  of  estab¬ 
lishments  for  such  purposes,  the  houses  and  hotels  which  form  the 
subject  of  this  chapter  figure  very  largely.  For  the  information 
of  those — alas,  too  few! — who  may  not  know  the  exact  meaning 
of  the  term  “house  of  assignation,”  we  will  here  state  it. 

It  is  a  bouse  in  which  people  meet  by  mutual  appointment  for 
illicit  purposes ;  a  place  to  which  they  are  admitted  in  considera¬ 
tion  of  a  stated  sum,  and  where  no  questions  are  asked.  They  are 
of  every  grade,  from  the  lowest  house  of  call  in  the  dirtiest  by¬ 
street,  to  the  aristocratic  mansion  in  the  most  fashionable  avenues; 
and  from  a  kind  whose  character  is  notorious,  and  to  which  every¬ 
body  has  access  who  can  pay  the  fee,  up  to  those  into  which  the 
finest-appearing  gentleman  could  not  obtain  admittance  without  an 
introduction,  and  which  the  sharpest-eyed  citizen  would  not  sus¬ 
pect  unless  they  were  pointed  out  to  him. 

Some  of  the  lesser  public  houses  in  New  York  are  no  better 
than  assignation  houses ;  and  even  the  largest  and  best  of  them 
are  sometimes  made  such,  much  against  the  will  of  their  proprie¬ 
tors.  Mr.  Jones  takes  with  him  Miss  Brown  and  some  trifling 
baggage,  and  boldly  enters  his  name  as  “  Mr.  Smith  and  lady” 
on  the  hotel  register,  and  how  is  the  landlord  to  know  them  from 
the  most  respectable  of  his  guests  ?  But  there  are  ways  in  which 
such  parties  are  detected,  and  sometimes  the  presentation  of  a  bill 
with  double  charges  (to  which,  if  disputed,  the  clerk  adds  two 
mysterious  letters)  very  unmistakably  indicates  to  the  intruder 
that  liis  room  is  better  than  his  company,  and  he  is  not  unfre- 
2* 


18 


quently  dismissed  by  the  gentlemanly  proprietor  with  more  boots 
than  bows.* 

In  some  of  the  largest  cities  of  the  United  States  there  are 
hotels  of  rather  aristocratic  pretensions  and  appearances,  and 
seemingly  most  choice  in  the  selection  of  their  boarders,  which 
are  nothing  in  the  world  but  assignation  houses  and  boarding 
places  for  kept  mistresses. 

People  unacquainted  with  this  fact  often  wonder  how  these 
establishments  are  supported,  as  they  have  no  transient  custom, 
and  apparently  few  regular  boarders.  If  in  good  faith  a  traveler 
goes  to  one  of  them,  he  is  informed  that  their  rooms  are  all  full, 
and  that  they  have  no  kind  of  accommodations  for  him.  But  let 
him  watch  after  dark,  and  if  he  was  the  most  charitably  inclined 
person  in  the  world,  his  eyes  would  distend  at  the  sight  of  the 
close  carriages  which  drive  up  to  the  door,  and  the  closely  veiled 
ladies  that  hastily  enter,  accompanied  by  mysterious  looking 
gentlemen.  Supper-parties  are  not  unfrequent  at  these  houses, 
where  ladies,  of  character  unimpeachable  to  the  outside  world, 
indulge  in  convivial  excesses  that  would  astonish  their  careless 
husbands  could  they  behold  it.  Many  a  once  respectable  woman 
can  date  her  ruin  from  the  day  some  lady  friend  (some  West 
India  widow,  perhaps)  induced  her,  all  unconscious  of  evil,  to 
make  one  of  a  “  small  party”  for  a  “little  private  supper,”  at  one 
of  these  aristocratic  places  of  resort. 

It  is  in  some  of  these  hotels  that  could  be  found  the  “urgent 
business”  that  detains  certain  Western  merchants  so  many  weeks 
of  every  year  in  New  York,  and  which  never  seems  to  be  settled 
satisfactorily,  however  frequent  may  be  their  visits  to  the  city ; 
and  some  instances  of  the  unexpected  appearance  of  Western  and 
Southern  wives  in  town,  have  decidedly  disarranged  the  pleasure- 
plans  of  their  unfaithful  spouses,  and  occasioned  very  serious  dis¬ 
turbances  in  the  New  York  atmosphere. 

Another  class  of  these  assignation  hotels  are  those  at  the  termi¬ 
nation  of  the  “  short  drives”  from  out  our  large  cities ;  and  where 
private  parlors  and  nice  little  dinners  and  suppers  are  provided, 
and  “  no  questions”  asked.  At  one  of  these,  situated  a  few  miles 

*  Overlook  not  oven  the  best  hotels  when  in  search  of  a  lost  daughter. 


1 


19 


out  of  Boston,  five  outrages  were  committed  by  a  young  man  in  a 
twelvemonth,  either  of  which,  if  proved,  would  consign  him  to  the 
State’s  Prison  or  the  halter :  regard  for  the  living  victims  prevents 
the  affidavits  of  the  now  dead,  from  placing  him  in  the  position  his 
crimes  entitle  him  to. 

There  is  still  another  class  of  these  places  which  may  be  termed 
private  assignation  houses;  these  are  generally  situated  in  some 
quiet,  respectable  street,  with  every  thing  unexceptionable,  and 
nothing  noticeable  in  their  appearance,  except  that  the  windows 
are  heavily  curtained,  and  there  are  few  signs  of  life  in  the  day¬ 
time,  or  perhaps  at  any  time.  No  stranger  would  imagine  that  in 
a  house  of  this  quiet  exterior  the  most  nefarious  crimes  are  habit¬ 
ually  perpetrated,  and  that  hundreds  of  unwilling  victims  have 
been  therein  robbed  of  the  jewel  of  their  virtue,  many  of  them 
yielding  only  wTien  exhausted  by  unavailing  struggles,  or  rendered 
insensible  by  poisonous  drugs. 

But  it  is  even  so ;  and  hundreds  of  men  know  this  fact  well ; 
and  hundreds  of  ruined  girls  could,  and  do,  render  their  damning 
testimony  to  the  veracity  of  the  terrible  assertion,  that  there  are 
assignation  houses  in  the  city  of  New  York,  where,  hy  the  connivance 
of  the  mistress,  drugs  will  be  mingled  with  the  wine  or  other  refresh¬ 
ments,  so  that  a  woman  partaking  of  them  will  he  thrown  into  a  state 
of  deep  stupor,  during  which  she  may  he  dehauehed,  without  her 
knowledge;  or  she  may  he  forcibly  violated  despite  of  her  screams 
and  prayers.  Nay,  mo-re :  it  is  known  hy  the  sworn  statements  of 
betrayed  girls,  that  in  some  houses  assistance  will  he  rendered  in  the 
latter  cases  hy  the  proprietors  themselves. 

Horrible  as  is  - this  statement,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  for  the 
affidavits,  substantiating  these  facts,  are  now  on  file  in  the  records 
of  the  courts. 

All  the  houses  of  assignation  are  not  so  bad  as  this,  it  is  true, 
but  there  is  scarce  one  from  which  a  young  girl  can  come  forth 
pure  as  when  she  entered,  if  her  seducer  chooses  to  use  the  means 
which  are  at  his  command. 

Another  feature  of  the  danger  to  which  unsuspecting  young 
women  are  exposed,  is  the  character  of  the  men  disposed  to  take 
advantage  of  their  innocence.  It  is  a  strange  fact,  but  one  well 
attested,  that  the  better  class  of  these  establishments  are  supported 


20 


by  married  men,  whose  position  in  society  places  them  above  the 
suspicion  of  such  doings,  except  in  the  eyes  of  the  very  few  who 
have  an  actual  knowledge  of  their  secret  ways.  ' 

Judges,  bankers,  merchants,  lawyers,  and  men  of  even  a  higher 
calling,  are  to  be  seen  mysteriously  emerging  from  the  private 
doors  of  these  places ;  in  fact,  it  is  only  by  drawing  upon  such 
wealthy  sources  that  they  can  be  sustained. 

We  have  judged  it  proper  to  make  these  remarks  in  detail,  that 
young  girls  may  see  their  danger  set  forth  in  the  plainest  possible 
terms ;  and  we  can  assure  whoever  may  read  this  book  that  our 
broad  assertions  come  even  within  the  facts.  It  must  be  perfectly 
evident  then,  that  with  all  these  traps  on  every  side  of  her,  and 
that,  too,  under  such  circumstances  that  the  tempter  has  every 
facility  to  compass  her  ruin,  the  innocent  maiden  cannot  be  too 
careful  and  circupaspect 

An  agreeable  young  man  seeks  her  out  and  makes  her  acquaint¬ 
ance  ;  she  is  pleased  with  his  pleasant  manners  and  his  kind  at¬ 
tentions  ;  her  confidence  increases  with  the  acquaintance  ;  flattery 
is  very  pleasant,  and  she  is  not  exempt  from  the  weaknesses  of  her 
sex ;  a  few  slight  presents  come  next,  inducing  admiration  of  her 
friend’s  generosity,  and  admiration  of  this  peculiar  kind  is  not  far 
off  from  love ;  places  of  amusement  are  visited,  and  some  night, 
after  the  theater  or  concert  is  out,  it  is  proposed  to  go  and  obtain 
some  refreshments :  then,  perhaps,  the  first  wrong  advances  are 
made ;  persuasions  are  tried ;  promises  are  made,  vows  are 
sworn,  and  these  too  often  do  not  fail ;  if  they  do  fail,  then  re¬ 
source  is  had  to  a  glass  of  wine,  a  stuffed  fig,  or  a  peculiarly 
seasoned  oyster-stew ;  and  if  necessary,  and  the  man  is  as  great 
a  villain  as  many  men  are,  he  invites  her  to  call  with  him  at  his 
aunt’s,  or  at  his  former  boarding  place  (of  course  a  house  of  assig¬ 
nation),  and  he  there  uses  means  that  never  fail. 

Some  of  the  worst  affairs  of  this  kind  have  occurred  at  the 
“  out-of-town”  hotels  we  referred  to ;  and  which  we  will  illustrate 
by  a  case,  the  type,  we  presume,  of  not  a  few. 

In  Boston,  previous  to  1850,  resided  a  young  man  of  prepossess¬ 
ing  appearance  and  winning  manners.  He  was  the  idol  of  his 
parents,  who  belonged  to  the  middle  class  of  society,  but  who,  by 
inheritance  and  otheiwrise,  became  very  wealthy ;  and,  of  course. 


21 


the  young  man  was  quite  a  desirable  match — such  as  ambitious 
mothers  were  very  anxious  to  secure  for  their  daughters,  and  one 
whose  attentions  could  not  but  be  very  flattering  to  the  daughters 
themselves. 

Want  of  education  and  polish  kept  him  voluntarily  from  asso¬ 
ciating  with  the  upper  ten ;  his  good  sense  held  him  clear  from 
the  oft-thrown  nets  of  the  gambler ;  he  had  a  constitutional  dis¬ 
taste  for  alcoholic  drinks ;  and  his  only  extravagance  seemed  to 
be  in  the  use  rather  than  the  ownership  of  fine  horses,  and  a 
singular  habit  of  distributing  presents  indiscriminately  among  his 
lady  acquaintances. 

In  his  moral  habits  he  was  apparently  perfectly  correct ;  no  one 
in  the-  city  ever  saw  him  in  a  house,  of  ill-repute ;  his  language 
was  in  no  respect  exceptionable,  nor  did  he  associate  at  all  with 
fast  young  men ;  and  yet  this  seemingly  blameless  youth  was 
one  of  the  deepest,  meanest,  and  most  heartless  villains  that  ever 
breathed :  his  sole  passion  was  the  destruction  of  female  innocence  ; 
and  nothing  but  what  was  most  beautiful  and  noble  would  con¬ 
tent  him. — He  was  a  robber,  a  destroyer  in  the  worst  possible 
sense. 

His  position,  wealth,  manners,  and  presents  made  him  a  univer¬ 
sal  favorite ;  he  was,  as  before  stated,  a  desirable  match,  and  his 
apparently  correct  habits  made  him  appear  a  suitor  or  companion 
with  whom  any  young  lady  could  be  safely  trusted.  In  fact, 
character  was  to  him  a  great  means  to  carry  out  his  base  designs, 
and  he  made  every  thing  bend  to  secure  that  recommendation. 

In  pursuit  of  his  object  he  would  select  the  most  beautiful 
young  lady  of  his  acquaintance,  whether  a  resident  or  visitant  of 
his  city,  and  in\ute  her  to  a  ride,  naming  always  a  very  early 
hour  in  the  afternoon,  and  invariably  returning  before  dusk.  It 
was  noticed  that  after  these  rides  had  been  repeated  a  few  times, 
that  the  intimacy,  if  not  the  acquaintance,  of  the  parties  termi¬ 
nated  ;  but  while  he  continued  as  cheerful  and  sociable  as  ever, 
the  young  lady  in  each  case  would  become  sad,  and  for  a  time 
almost  heart-broken.  The  world  attributed  this  to  mortification 
and  disappointment  in  not  having  secured  the  young  man  for  a 
husband ;  but  had  not  the  certainty  of  adding  a  second  agony — 
the  derision  of  the  world — to  that  they  already  suffered  sealed 


f 


22 

their  lips,  the  parties  themselves  would  have  shown  that  they 
had  suffered  at  this  villain’s  hands  the  worst  possible  wrong  that 
man  can  inflict  upon  woman. 

His  custom  was  to  drive  to  an  out-of-town  hotel,  call  for  a  par¬ 
lor  and  dinner,  with  wine  and  cordials,  for  which  he  paid  in  the 
most  liberal  manner,  so  as  to  secure  all  the  attention  and  dis- 
attention  he  desired.  When  left  to  themselves,  he  would  discuss 
with  his  fair  companion  the  subject  of  marriage,  admit  that  he 
was  somewhat  fickle-minded,  but  that  he  had  not  yet  found  the 
woman  he  could  love ;  but  that  she  (the  present  company)  had 
charmed  him  most ;  still  he  was  free  to  say  (he  was  then  twenty- 
three)  that,  under  the  advice  of  his  parents,  he  had  resolved  to 
make  no  engagement  until  he  was  twenty-five. 

Having  enlisted  the  young  woman’s  affections,  and  incited  in 
her  some  ambitious  hopes ;  and  having  accustomed  her  at  each 
visit  to  the  rather  free  use  of  wines  or  cordials,  which  he  slightly 
and  dexterously  drugged  with  his  own  hand,  he  would  on  their  final 
call  at  the  place,  through  a  combination  of  force  and  drugging, 
dishonor  her ; — and  when  the  weeping,  distracted  girl  had  in  a 
measure  recovered  herself,  this  human  fiend  would  coolly  rea¬ 
son  with  her  thus: — “None  but  ourselves  know  of  this  affair; 
if  trouble  comes  of  it,  I  will  see  you  through ;  it  rests  entirely 
with  you  whether  our  acquaintance  continues.  Now,  will  you  be 
a  fool,  and  expose  yourself,  or  keep  your  own  counsel  ?” 

Five  noble-hearted  girls,  such  as  would  have  suffered  death 
rather  than  dishonor,  were  thus  outraged  in  a  twelvemonth  r  and 
that  they  were  worthy  women  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  though  they 
were  cast  down,^  they  were  not  abased :  they  “  kept  their  own 
counsel,"  and  preserved  their  position  in  society ,  but  one  of  them 
communicated  further  with  the  base  villain,  and  she  in  all  proba¬ 
bility  only  through,  the  necessity  of  unavoidable  circumstances ; 
for  she  died  not  many  months  after  of — consumption. 

This  account,  and  much  more,  came  to  the  ear  of  our  narrator 
from  the  lips  of  the  wretch  himself,  as,  when  prostrated  by  a 
fever,  he  hung  on  the  verge  of  eternity :  a  whole  lifetime  of  un¬ 
interrupted  pleasure  could  not  repay  the  agony  of  that  one  night  ; 


*  See  Introduction  to  Part  Second, 


23 


1 

he  still  exists  on  earth,  but  the  surety  of  the  dread  future  he 
barely  escaped  from  is  ever  before  his  eyes. 

Many  may  deem  it  strange  that  such  a  villain  has  not  met 
with  the  fate  of  a  Heberton,  a  Carter,  or  a  Col.  Sharp ;  but  it  may 
be,  to  use  the  language  uttered  by  an  English  advocate  upon  a 
late  political  trial,  “  God,  who  counts  the  hours  of  tyrants 
(seducers  as  well)  keeps  them  for  a  worse  fate  than  assassination,” 
an  exemplification  of  which  assertion  we  shall  in  a  future  chapter 
give  a  marked  example  of. 

Another  case,  occurring  to  parties  in  more  humble  life,  and 
which  carried  with  it  a  certain  amount  of  retribution  on  one  of 
the  chief  actors  therein,  was  the  following : 

A  young  girl,  named  Clara  L - ,  in  August  last,  came  to  this 

city  from  the  neighborhood  of  St.  Louis,  and  obtained  employ¬ 
ment  as  a  milliner  in  a  large  establishment  in  Division-street.  She 
took  board  with  a  widow  lady  in  Cherry-street,  and  seemed  well 
satisfied  with  her  place. 

As  long  as  her  work  was  steady,  she  obtained  her  pay  promptly, 
and  paid  her  board  with  the  greatest  regularity.  But  in  October 
came  the  great  financial  crisis  that  .has  caused  so  much  misery  all 
over  the  country;  business  fell  off;  and  in  November  the  firm 
by  whom  she  was  employed  was  compelled  to  suspend  operations, 
and  throw  all  hands  out  of  work.  She  could  not,  though  she 
made  the  most  unremitting  efforts,  obtain  employment  any  where 
else,  for  the  city  was  full  of  people  in  a  similar  strait.  She  had 
no  money  to  pay  her  passage  back  to  the  West,  and  was  in 
despair. 

During  all  this  time  her  hostess  had  been  engaged  in  many 
transactions  of  a  nefarious  character;  but  so  quietly  had  she 
managed  things,  that  Clara  never  once  suspected  that  the  house 
was  other  than  respectable;  and  it  was  to  such  a  woman  she 
was  obliged  to  run  in  debt  for  her  board. 

The  hostess  made  no  objection  to  this  at  first,  but  as  weeks 
wore  away  she  became  anxious  for  her  pay,  and  finally  hinted — 
to  her  lasting  shame  be  it  said — that  there  was  a  way  in  which 
young  and  handsome  women,  hke  her  boarder,  could  obtain  not 
only  money  enough  for  the  necessaries  of  life,  but  a  sufficiency  to 
secure  its  luxuries.  This  hint,  unmistakably  poJsiing  as  it  did 


24 


to  the  sacrifice  of  her  honor,  unspeakably  horrified  the  virtuous 
Clara,  innocent  and  pure  minded  as  she  was,  and  she  retired 
weeping  to  her  chamber.  But  the  hag  was  insatiate  for  her 
pay,  and  was  not  to  be  thwarted  of  her  purpose  by  the  mere 
effusion  of  tears,  and  she  persisted  in  her  attempts  to  undermine 
the  virtue  of  the  friendless  girl. 

Alternately  she  importuned  for  the  money,  and  then  set  before 
her,  in  half  ‘woroanly  half  Satanic  eloquence,  the  advantages  she 
might  derive,  the  luxuries  obtain,  by  bringing  her  personal  charms 
to  bear  upon  the  other  sex ;  surrendering  their  use  merely  a  while, 
till  fortune  proved  less  darkly.  A  while  she  urged  in  vain — and 
might  probably  have  done  so  until  Doom’s-day,  if  she  had  not  en¬ 
listed  the  services  of  those  whose  arguments  and  entreaties  were 
of  other  than  a  verbal  nature  ;  men  were  introduced  to  her, — men 
whose  sole  object  was  to  seduce  her.  Their  endeavors  for  days, 
nights,  and  weeks  were  fruitless,  but  they  were  finally  successful, 
though  only  successful  through  the  employment  of  the  most  brutal 
and  unmanly  means. 

One  night,  after  Clara  had  retired  to  her  chamber  and  sobbed 
herself  to  sleep,  her  hostess  stealthily  entered  her  room,  accom¬ 
panied  by  a  man  who  had  been  the  most  pressing  to  Clara  in  his 
importunities ;  by  theso  two  persons  she  was  seized,  and  ere  she 
could  have  time  to  scream  out  in  her  terror,  she  was  gagged^  and 
then  the  diabolical  object  of  the  visit  was  accomplished.  After¬ 
ward,  as  she  was  completely  exhausted,  cordials  were  forced  down 
her  throat,  then  opiates,  and  she  was  thus  induced  to  sleep.  She 
was  kept  locked  in  her  room  for  a  few  days  until  she  had  physic¬ 
ally  recovered  from  her  ill  treatment,  and  then  the  woman  of  the 
house  repeated  her  infamous  solicitations. 

Friendless,  alone,  and  unprotected,  crushed  in  spirit,  what  could 
the  poor  girl  do  ?  Without  money  to  take  her  ftom  the  hated 
city,  she  saw  no  prospect  before  her  but  of  being  turned  into  the 
street  to  die  if  she  did  not  yield.  She  did  yield,  for  her  tempta¬ 
tion  was  greater  than  she  could  bear ;  she  fell,  as  thousands  have 
before  her,  the  victim  of  fraud,  force,  and  pecuniary  necessities. 

Henceforth  all  was  changed  with  the  fallen  girl ;  calico  gave 
place  to  lawn,  and  lawn  to  silk ;  she  throve  in  purse  but  grew 
sick  in  souL 


25 


And  her  hostess— did  remorse  seize  her  at  seeing  the  consum¬ 
mation  of  her  diabolical  purpose  ?  not  so ;  she  received  her  money 
now,  weekly — not  the  beggarly  pittance  the  poor  milliner  girl  had 
been  wont  to  pay  her,  but  a  rich,  handsome  sum.  Not  then  did 
remorse  seize  her,  but - 

A  most  terrible  retribution  was  in  store  for  her.  Justice,  though 
blind,  still  exists,  and  occasionally  gives  fearful  and  indubitable 
evidence  of  vitality. 

A  gentleman  called  one  day  at  the  house  to  see  the  landlady. 
He  proved  to  be  a  mutual  acquaintance  of  herself  and  her  hus¬ 
band,  from  whom  she  had  been  divorced  for  fifteen  years,  and  had 
not  since  seen. 

He  was  invited  into  the  parlor ;  the  girl  once  pure,  now  fallen, 
was  there.  He  was  presented;  a  glance  of  recognition  passed 
between  them;  he  saw  in  her  the  daughter  of  the  woman  of  the 
house ;  the  very  woman  who  had  planned  and  accomplished  her  ruin, 
A  scene  that  beggars  all  description  immediately  ensued ;  even 
could  it  be  depicted,  it  should  not  be.  At  its  close  the  daughter 
left  the  house  immediately,  and  taking  to  the  street,  has  since 
pursued  a  most  abandoned  life  in  spite  of  all  efforts  to  reclaim 
her. 

“  Too  latel”  she  cries,  “too  late!” — and  down  her  throat  rum 
is  poured  almost  incessantly,  making  it  altogether  probable  that 
she  will  not  survive  the  year. 

She,  it  appears,  was  surrendered  to  her  father  at  the  time  he 
was  divorced  from  her  mother,  and  was  for  years  supported  by 
him  in  a  distant  Western  city,  where  he  resided,  under  an  assumed 
name,  until  he  died ;  and  then  his  daughter,  through  some  strange 
fatality,  came  to  New  York  and  took  up  her  abode  with  her 
mother. 

‘  Horrible  as  is  this  case,  it  can  be  matched  by  many  others  with 
details  equally  revolting ;  but  enough.  We  think  sufficient  has 
been  said  fully  to  enlighten  our  readers  respecting  the  character, 
temptations,  and  perils  of  Assignation  Houses  and  Hotels, 


3 


CHAPTER  III. 


Mock  Intelligence  Offices. 

Hundreds  of  recruits  to  the  ranks  of  miserable  women  are 
taken  from  the  intelligence  offices ;  by  far  the  greater  portion  of 
these  are  not  only  useless,  but  pernicious  establishments.  Ask 
any  honest  New  York  citizen  where  there  is  an  employment 
agency  that  can  be  depended  upon,  and  the  ready  reply  will  be, 
“I  know  of  scarce  one  !”  But  the  imposing  of  incompetent  serv¬ 
ants  upon  their  patrons,  or  the  fleecing  of  poor  girls  out  of  their 
advance  money,  under  the  pretense  of  providing  them  good  places, 
is  not  the  worst  feature  of  these  concerns.  Many  of  them  are  but 
the  gate-ways  of  infamy — the  outer  portals  of  houses  of  ill-fame. 

It  is  not  true,  as  many  suppose  who  have  only  hastily  entered 
such  offices  in  order  to  supply  the  place  of  a  cook  or  chambermaid 
who  have  departed  suddenly  in  a  ‘  huff.”  that  none  but  Irish  or 
German  girls  are  to  be  found  therein ;  there  are  often  many 
American  and  English  girls  to  be  found  among  the  long  rows  of 
disconsolate  looking  maidens  who  are  seated  on  the  bare  benches 
of  the  intelligence  office. 

Sometimes,  too,  ladies  of  refinement  and  education,  who  desire 
places  as  governesses  or  teachers  in  private  families,  who  can¬ 
not  afford  the  money  to  pay  for  a  continued  advertisement  in  the 
newspapers,  and  who,  having  no  influential  friends  to  recommend 
them  to  others,  or  secure  their  services  for  themselves,  are  fain  to 
take  the  slim  chances  of  the  employment  office ;  so  they  pay  the 
regular  fee  for  sitting,  day  after  day,  to  be  stared  at,  until  their 
good  luck  throws  a  beam  of  light  across  their  path  in  the  shape 
of  a  generous  employer,  or,  most  likely,  until  they  get  wearied 
out  waiting  and  come  no  more. 


28 


The  great  majority  of  females  who  resort  to  intelligence  offices 
are  of  course  strangers  in  the  city,  and  ignorant  of  its  wicked 
ways ;  for  as  soon  as  a  girl  makes  a  good  acquaintance  in  town,  or 
once  gets  a  place,  if  she  is  of  good  character  and  possesses  a  capable 
hand  and  willing  heart,  she  will  have  no  further  difficulty,  since  in 
ordinary  times  of  prosperity  there  is  plenty  of  work  for  all  who 
choose  to  labor,  even  in  cities. 

Girls  from  the  country,  who  have  come  to  town,  as  the  English 
youths  of  old  used  to  go  to  London,  “  to  seek  their  fortunes,”  and 
those  who  come  over  in  the  emigrant  ships  and  do  not  push  on  to 
the  broad  prairies  of  the  West,  are  in  a  position  to  be  easily  cheat¬ 
ed  and  taken  advantage  of  in  their  search  for  employment,  both 
as  to  wages  and  situation.  When  one  of  them  is  selected  by  a 
“  customer,”  she  does  not  know  the  character  of  that  person,  nor 
has  she  any  way  of  ascertaining  the  reputation  of  the  house  to 
which  she  is  to  be  taken ;  and  she  may  be  inveigled  into  a  den 
of  infamy  or  a  house  of  “  assignation,”  or  any  other  place  of  misery 
and  shame,  without  any  means  to  discover  the  fact,  until  she  has 
had  actual  experience  of  the  truth. 

Servants  who  have  ever  been  employed  in  the  city  are  always 
required  to  bring  with  them  a  “  character” — a  written  recom¬ 
mendation  from  their  last  place — setting  forth  their  capacity  and 
testifying  to  their  honesty  and  trust- worthiness.  If  this  rule  were 
reversed,  or  made  to  work  both  ways,  a  good  end  would  be 
answered.  If  employers  were  obliged  to  “approve  themselves 
good  men  and  true,”  to  the  persons  they  wished  to  hire,  and  if 
ladies  were  compelled,  on  the  requisition  of  the  girl  they  wished 
to  engage,  to  produce  testimonials  of  the  respectability  of  their 
houses  and  of  their  own  good  moral  character,  it  would  perhaps 
be  found  to  be  for  the  good  of  the  employees,  however  trouble¬ 
some  and  annoying  it  might  prove  to  the  employers. 

“  An'  plaze,  sir,  will  the  missis  show  her  certificate  ?”  said  a 
smart,  handsome,  Irish  lass,  to  the  employment  man,  who  was 
endeavoring  to  persuade  her  to  go  home  with  a  coarse,  sinister- 
looking,  over-dressed  boarding-house  landlady.  And  Biddy  was 
right ;  her  reputation  was  of  as  much  account  to  herself  as  could 
anybody’s  be  to  themselves.  And  we  would  say  to  Bridget,  and 
Kate,  and  Maggy,  and  the  whole  of  them,  “If  your  would-be  em- 


29 


ployer  aoes  not  carry  her  “  certificate”  or  “  recommend”  in  her 
face,  and  manners,  and  the  tones  of  her  voice,  then  respectfully 
{always  respectfully)  decline  to  engage ;  and  if  urged  hard,  ask  for 
the  lady's  ceriificaie. 

Of  course,  among  the  throngs  of  women  of  all  ages,  and  of  all 
classes  in  society,  who  resort  to  the  intelligence  offices  for  situa¬ 
tions,  there  must  be  a  large  number  who  possess  a  good  share  of 
personal  beauty ;  who  are  comely  as  to  the  face  and  trim  as  to 
the  figure.  And  here  it  is  that  beauty  is  a  curse  and  a  snare ; 
and  better  would  it  have  been  for  many  a  young  woman  had  she 
been  freckled  and  pock-marked,  had  she  been  round-shouldered 
and  limped,  than  being  perfect  of  feature  and  form,  to  have  attract¬ 
ed  the  eye  of  some  vile  man  or  soul-merchandising  woman. 

When  a  girl  presents  herself  as  a  candidate  for  a  “place,”  her 
name  and  qualifications  are  taken,  and  a  fee  required.  This  is  a 
ceremony  never  omitted — the  money  in  all  cases  being  demanded 
in  advance ;  having  secured  the  cash,  the  clerk  next  gives  the 
applicant  a  list  of  ladies  who  want  girls,  and  she  sets  out  in  search 
of  them ;  but  of  the  list  given  her  perhaps  half  the  parties  have 
had  all  their  help  engaged  for  a  month,  and  have  repeatedly  ad¬ 
vised  the  employment  man  of  the  fact. 

Or  she  is  seated  in  a  room  with  numbers  of  others,  and  people 
who  desire  “  help”  come  in  and  examine  them,  looking  hard  in 
their  faces,  asking  about  their  ages  and  their  qualifications  in  a 
loud  tone  of  voice,  making  them  stand  up  that  they  may  examine 
their  size  and  strength,  and  treating  them  more  like  slaves  in  a 
southern  market,  or  cattle  in  a  farm-yard,  than  like  respectable 
girls  in  a  free  country,  whose  only  misfortune  is  that  they  are 
dependent  and  poor. 

A  girl  is  compelled  by  the  force  of  circumstances  to  put  a  cer¬ 
tain  amount  of  trust  in  the  employment  agent,  and  to  take  his 
word  as  to  the  desirability  of  the  places  he  proposes,  and  the  re¬ 
spectability  of  the  parties  who  may  seek  to  engage  her.  As  the 
man  has  received  his  fee,  and  has  no  hope  of  getting  any  more 
money  out  of  liLs  customer,  his  only  desire  is  to  get  rid  of  her 
and  have  her  off  his  hands  as  soon  as  possible,  that  her  place 
may  be  taken  by  some  one  el^.  He  is  therefore  not  at  all  scru¬ 
pulous  of  recommending  any  vacant  place  he  may  happen  to  be 

3* 


80 


aware  of,  as  “most  desirable,”  “light,  easy  work,”  “kind  mis¬ 
tress,”  “sure  pay,”  &c.,  without,  in  one  case  out  of  a  dozen,  really 
knowing  any  thing  of  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  or  hesi¬ 
tating  to  misrepresent  them,  if  he  did. 

It  will  be  seen,  of  course,  that  by  this  system  the  “  hona-fide" 
employers,  who  are  silly  enough  to  put  any  faith  in  these  shops, 
are  as  badly  swindled  as  the  servants.  It  is  even  said  that  some 
of  the  employment  agents  have  a  number  of  female  thieves,  for 
whom  they  get  places,  as  servants,  in  respectable  families,  and 
afterward  share  with  them  the  stolen  goods  they  may  abstract ; 
and  there  is  often  a  third  set  of  rascals  in  this  nice  little  partner¬ 
ship — burglars,  who  are  informed  by  the  servant  accomplice  of  the 
quantity  of  valuables  in  the  house,  and  other  important  par¬ 
ticulars,  and  who  enter  the  dwelling  by  doors  and  windows  pur¬ 
posely  left  unfastened  by  these  servant  girls. 

Be  all  this  as  it  may,  w^e  have  no  particular  business  with  it 
now,  except  that  it  answers  as  a  corroborating  circumstance  in 
defense  of  our  broad  assertion,  that  many  of  the  intelligence  offices 
of  New  York  are  intimately  connected  with  houses  of  ill-fame,  and 
make  no  inconsiderable  portion  of  their  revenue  through  inducing 
virtuous  girls  to  enter  unknowingly  places  where  they  are  speedily 
brought  to  ruin.  So  that  whenever  a  girl  of  unusual  personal 
beauty  or  particularly  pleasing  manners  comes  into  an  office  of 
this  description,  she  is  detained  by  promises  of  an  “excellent 
situation,”  that  will  just  suit  her,  until  the  procuress  is  sent  for, 
and  this  latter  personage,  upon  receiving  the  intelligence,  imme¬ 
diately  hurries  down  to  secure  the  game. 

It  has  been  proved  that  some  of  these  keepers  of  employment 
offices  have  received  a  premium — so  much  per  head  for  every  girl 
they  would  betray  into  the  hands  of  the  spoilers.  This  is  par¬ 
ticularly  the  case  with  those  who  do  not  advertise  their  place  of 
business,  and  are,  therefore,  comparatively  little  knowm  to  the 
public ;  and  such  make  more  money  by  far  from  being  accessory 
to  the  betrayal  of  virtue,  than  from  the  legitimate  business  they 
profess  to  be  engaged  in. 

But  all  the  intelligence  offices  are  not  of  this  character.  The 
most  reliable  of  them  are  those  that  are  under  the  control  of 
Societies  for  Improving  the  Condition  of  the  Poor,  and  which 


SI 


were  established  in  part  on  account  of  the  existence  of  the  very 
abuses  we  have  named ;  and  should  some  of  our  readers  doubt 
any  assertions  made  in  this  chapter,  we  think  they  will  have  but 
to  call  at  the  offices  provided  by  these  charitable  associations  to 
find  them  sustained  in  every  particular.  We  have  no  doubt 
there  are  others  that  are  trustworthy,  but  they  are  few  in  number, 
for  their  honesty  has  stood  in  the  way  of  their  success. 

We  will  now  proceed  to  a  few  remarks  upon  the  manner  in 
which  unsuspecting  young  girls  are  led  to  ruin  through  the  efforts 
and  connivance  of  employment  agents. 

Any  one  who  has  passed  an  hour  in  one  of  these  places  has 
hardly  failed  to  see  a  richly-attired  woman,  in  whose  dress  there 
are  generally  more  colors  than  in  the  rainbow,  sweep  in  and  gaze 
inquiringly  into  the  faces  of  the  expecting  girls  in  waiting ;  and 
if  she  finds  none  that  are  particularly  pretty  looking,  she  imme¬ 
diately  takes  her  leave  after  a  little  chat  with  the  proprietor;  but 
if  there  be  one  present  of  prepossessing  appearance,  she  ad¬ 
dresses  her  in  the  kindest  manner,  and  always  terminates  idle  con¬ 
versation  with  engaging  her.  The  girl  is  promised  good  wages  and 
easy  times,  and  is  generally  much  pleased  with  the  appearance 
of  her  mistress,  for  this  style  of  woman  perfectly  understands  how 
to  assume  manners  which  will  disarm  suspicion  where  parties 
are  not  on  the  look-out  for  evil  characters. 

That  woman  is  the  keeper  of  a  house  of  iU-fame ;  and  woe  be  to 
the  girl  who  trusts  herself  to  her  tender  mercies.  Once  within 
her  house,  and  nothing  in  the  shape  of  persuasion,  threats,  or  force 
will  be  left  untried  to  accomplish  her  ruin. 

First,  she  is  watched  and  guarded  and  not  permitted  to  go  out 
alone ;  then,  after  a  few  days,  the  first  insinuations  are  made ; 
these  are  followed  by  direct  proposals  to  yield  herself  to  evil; 
she  is  introduced  to  visitors,  and  every  solicitation  is  used  to  in¬ 
duce  the  poor  girl  to  submit ;  she  is  told  that  she  shall  have  fine 
dresses,  jewelry,  and  ornaments  of  every  kind;  that  she  shall 
live  the  life  of  a  lady,  with  nothing  to  do  but  receive  the  atten¬ 
tions  of  gentlemen ;  her  beauty  is  praised,  and  every  thing  in  the 
way  of  fiattery  is  done  to  excite  her  vanity,  and  to  dissatisfy  her 
with  the  life  of  a  servant. 

She  sees  gentlemen  constantly  calling  at  the  house,  and  paying 


82 


attentions  to  the  other  girls,  who,  dressed  in  silks  and  satins  and 
adorned  with  jewelry,  are  taken  out  by  them  to  suppers,  balls, 
and  places  of  amusement ;  and  she  is  told  by  the  devilish  mistress 
of  the  house  that  she  shall  lead  just  such  a  life  herself  if  she  will 
only  consent  to  “  get  rid  of  her  ridiculous  scruples,  and  do  as  they 
do,”  that  is,  sell  her  beauty  for  a  price. 

Carried  away  by  their  vanity  and  love  of  admiration,  and  hear¬ 
ing  nothing  but  evil  counsel  on  every  side,  having  no  true  friend 
to  rely  on  or  advise  them,  many  yield  to  these  seductive  influences, 
and  voluntarily  sacriflce  themselves. 

If,  however,  all  solicitations  fail,  other  means  are  brought  into 
requisition ;  menaces  are  tried,  and  a  simple  girl  unused  to  city 
ways  is  threatened  with  imprisonment ;  a  charge  of  theft  is 
trumped  up  against  her,  and,  by  means  of  sham  officers,  the  poor 
girl  is  frightened  half  out  of  her  senses ;  she  is  told  that  if  she 
offers  to  quit  the  house,  she  will  be  at  once  arrested,  and  taken 
to  prison,  brought  up  at  court  the  next  morning,  and  sentenced 
to  the  Penitentiary;  some  visitor  apes  the  kind-hearted  man, 
and  offers  to  befriend  her,  and  her  mind  is  so  worked  up  by  these 
various  means,  that  she  gives  up  opposition,  partly  from  despair 
and  partly  for  sake  of  peace.  Or  perhaps  the  old  system  of 
drugging  is  tried,  and  that  seldom  fails ;  or  brute  violence  is  re¬ 
sorted  to,  and  that  never  fails ;  and  so  scarce  one  poor  girl  in  a 
hundred  escapes  from  these  houses  as  chaste  as  when  they  en¬ 
tered  them. 

A  case  which  occurred  in  this  city  in  January  last,  and  which 
was  made  the  subject  of  police  investigation,  will  show  that  our 
previous  statements  are  not  too  highly  colored. 

A  man  named  D — ds,  who  keeps  a  house  of  ill-repute  in  one  of 
the  parallel  streets  west  of  Broadway,  hired  a  pretty,  gentle¬ 
appearing  Irish  girl,  named  Bridget  H - ,  at  an  intelligence 

office.  He  expressed  himself  much  pleased  with  her  appearance, 
was  satisfled  as  to  her  certificates,  and  engaged  her  to  act  as  cook 
for  him,  teUing  her  that  he  was  keeping  house,  that  his  wife  was 
an  invalid,  and  unable  to  come  to  the  office  to  choose  a  girl  for 
herself. 

Bridget  was  overjoyed  to  find  herself  engaged  for  a  good  place 
almost  the  first  hour  she  had  applied  for  one,  and  immediately 


33 


prepared  to  remove  her  few  worldly  goods  to  D — ds’  house ;  and 
these  were  few  enough ;  she  was  an  orphan,  an  utter  stranger  in 
the  city,  and  without  a  friend,  and  fondly  hoped  to  find  her  new 
employer  kind,  and  his  house  a  home. 

When  she  got  to  the  house  she  found  that  D — ds’  wife  was 
absent,  that  he  kept  a  saloon  there,  and  that  selling  liquor  was  the 
ostensible  business  of  the  establishment.  She  w'as  not  well 
pleased  with  this,  but  concluded  to  stay  and  do  the  besi  she 
could  to  please  her  employer  and  earn  her  wages. 

For  a  few  days  all  went  on  smoothly,  and  D — ds  was  civil  and 
treated  her  well.  Then  he  began  to  make  violent  love  to  her,  and 
before  a  fortnight  had  passed  away,  he  had  proposed  to  marry 
her.  This  offer  Bridget  declined,  and  repulsed  Ms  love  advances 
very  kindly,  but  decidedly,  and  he  appeared  to  be  willing  to 
desist  making  them.  Again  she  was  left  to  herself  for  a  few  days ; 
but  one  evening  D — ds  invited  her  to  drink  a  glass  of  soda^  which 
invitation  she  accepted.  That  glass  of  soda  was  drugged,  and  for 
eight  hours  the  deceived  girl  lay  stupefied  and  utterly  insensible. 
When  at  last  she  came  to  her  senses,  she  discovered  she  had  been 
outraged.  Half-crazed  with  her  great  sorrow,  she  rushed  from 
the  house,  made  her  way  to  the  dock,  and  plunged  into  the  water, 
with  the  full  intention  of  ending  her  life,  but  was  observed  by  a 
policeman  who  reseued  her.  She  told  him  her  mournful  story, 
and  D — ds  was  arrested  and  placed  in  the  Tombs. 

Subsequent  inquiry  proved  that  the  keeper  of  the  intelligence  of¬ 
fice  where  this  poor  girl  was  entrapped  is  a  brother-in-law  of  D — ds\ 
and  acts  as  his  agent,  and  has  often  sent  other  girls  to  his  house. 
What  has  been  the  history  of  these  other  unfortunates,  we  can 
only  guess ;  but  probably  each  one  could  tell  a  story  no  less  re¬ 
volting  than  tills  of  the  orphan  Irish  girl. 

One  other  instance  from  the  hundreds  that  might  be  selected, 
will  suffice  as  an  illustration  of  the  way  this  business  is  often 
managed.  In  this  particular  case,  the  object  was  not  accomplished 
in  consequence  of  the  lucky  escape  of  the  girl ;  but  the  intended 
crime  is  fully  evident. 

A  pretty  girl,  sixteen  years  of  age,  named  Ellen  B - ,  who 

had  been  living  at  Saratoga  Springs,  but  who  lost  her  situation  in 
that  village  with  the  close  of  the  fashionable  season,  came  to  tMs 


84 


city  in  quest  of  a  place.  Being  entirely  unacquainted,  she  had  no 
ready  means  of  obtaining  employment,  save  through  the  medium 
of  an  intelligence  office ;  she  therefore  made  ner  way  to  one, 
where  she  was  placed  “  all  in  a  row”  with  a  number  of  young 
ladies  similarly  situated.  Her  money  was  demanded,  and  she 
then  had  the  privilege  of  coming  every  day,  and  sitting  on  that 
bench  until  some  fastidious  mistress  should  engage  her. 

She  was  not  to  wait  very  long.  On  the  second  day  after  she 
had  paid  her  fee,  as  she  was  sitting  on  that  hard  bench,  a  dashing, 
fashionably-dressed  lady,  who  assumed  all  the  “airs”  of  the 
“upper-crust”  world,  entered  the  office  in  quest  of  a  girl.  Her 
sharp  eye  ran  over  the  expectant  group,  until  it  lighted  upon 
Ellen,  when  it  kindled  with  a  glance  of  satisfaction,  for  Ellen  was 
really  a  handsome  girl,  whose  appearance  ill  befits  her  humble 
station ;  a  bargain  was  soon  concluded,  and  the  girl  prepared  to 
go  to  her  boarding-place  for  her  clothes. 

On  coming  out  of  the  intelligence  office,  she  found  a  carriage 
waiting,  which  a  wink  from  her  new  mistress  had  caused  the 
employment  man  to  send  for ;  and  into  this  she  got  with  the  lady, 
who,  it  evidently  seems,  was  afraid  to  trust  her  prize  out  of  her 
grasp.  In  this  they  proceeded  to  Ellen’s  stopping-place  for  her 
trunk,  from  whence  they  were  driven  to  the  residence  of  the  dash¬ 
ing  woman,  whom  we  shall  call — Mrs.  Smith. 

EUen  noticed,  as  she  entered  the  house,  that  every  thing  was 
in  a  confused,  disorderly,  dirty  condition,  such  as  iU  becomes  the 
house  of  a  true  lady ;  but  she  attributed  this  to  the  mistress  having 
been  without  “  help” — and  ladies  now-a-days  so  seldom  know 
how  to  do  work.  There  was  one  thing,  however,  which  troubled 
her  more — that  was  the  familiar,  confident  manner  which  the 
woman  assumed  as  soon  as  she  began  to  domesticate  herself,  and 
the  not  very  fastidious  language  she  at  times  made  use  of  in  her 
conversation — a  circumstance  we  would  urge  our  readers  to  note 
as  a  warning  indication  they  may  some  time  profit  by. 

The  family  consisted  of  the  mistress,  a  sick  girl  and  her  nurse, 
and  a  colored  woman,  acting  as  cook  and  chambermaid.  Ellen 
was  surprised  at  the  little  service  required  of  her,  and  also  at  the 
call  of  several  gentlemen,  about  which  there  appeared  to  be  some- 


thing  mysterious,  as  Mrs.  Smith  answered  the  door-bell  herself, 
and  seemed  anxious  that  Ellen  should  not  be  seen  by  them. 

All  these  things,  however,  did  not  quite  open  Ellen’s  eyes  to  the 
true  character  of  the  place  she  was  in,  though  she  began  to  have 
some  shrewd  suspicions,  and  she  wished  herself  well  out  of  the 
house;  but  to  get  away  from  it  was  impossible,  as  her  every 
motion  was  watched,  and  no  errand  or  excuse  was  allowed  to  give 
her  occasion  to  quit  the  premises. 

At  last,  some  expected  and  unobjectionable  party  seemed  to 
have  announced  himself;  for,  one  day  as  Ellen  was  thinking  over 
these  things,  and  striving  to  decide  what  to  do,  there  came  a  pe¬ 
culiar  knock  at  the  street-door,  and  Mrs.  Smith  requested  Ellen  to 
go  to  it ;  she  did  so,  and  admitted  a  very  well-dressed  gentleman, 
whose  breath  and  manner  indicated  to  Ellen,  as  she  showed  him 
into  the  parlor,  that  he  had  not  been  many  minutes  parted  from 
the  wine-bottle. 

Ellen  was  called  into  the  room,  introduced  to  Mr.  Burgundy 
as  a  particular  friend  of  Mrs.  Smith,  and  requested  to  be  seated. 
The  gentleman  stared  impudently  at  her,  and  then  asked  the 
mistress  what  had  become  of  the  other  girls ;  she  replied  they  had 
left;  adding,  with  a  significant  nod  at  Ellen,  “  but  I  have  got  one 
prettier  than  all  of  them.”  Upon  which  the  gentleman  assured 
Ellen  she  was  “a  nice  little  critter” — accompanying  the  ques¬ 
tionable  commendation  with  an  oath.  He  then  proceeded  to  pay 
her  more  compliments  much  after  the  same  sort,  and  to  express 
his  desire  that  they  should  become  intimately  acquainted. 

He  then  called  for  some  wine,  of  which  he  and  Mrs.  S.  drank, 
and  which  they  first  invited  and  then  urged  Ellen  to  partake  of, 
but  which  the  wise  girl  very  firmly  and  resolutely  declined  to  do, 
very  much,  as  it  seemed,  to  their  disappointment  and  annoyance. 
They  then  commenced  talking  together  in  a  low  tone,  Ellen 
evidently  being  the  subject  of  their  remarks;  at  last  they  ap¬ 
peared  to  have  decided  upon  some  course  of  procedure,  for  the 
gentleman  turned  to  talk  with  Ellen  again,  while  Mrs.  S.,  rising 
to  leave  the  room,  said,  “I  am  going  to  leave  for  a  few  minutes; 
you  will  entertain  the  gentleman  while  I  am  gone,  dear.” 

The  girl  at  once  saw  through  the  plot,  and  became  thoroughly 


36 


alarmed ;  she  rose  to  her  feet,  and,  telling  the  procuress  that  she 
had  not  been  engaged  to  “  entertain  gentlemen,”  and  that  she  was 
satisfied  the  house  was  no  place  for  her,  she  asked  for  her  things 
that  she  might  leave  the  premises.  Mrs.  S.  told  her  to  go  up  and 
get  them ;  she  answered  she  would  not  trust  herself  so  far  from 
the  street ;  Mrs.  S.  then  told  her  she  should  not  leave  the  house : 
this  remark  the  gentleman  repeated  with  offensive  additions,  and 
both  approached  to  seize  her ;  but  she  darted  past  them  into  the 
hall,  and  through  the  street-door,  and,  though  closely  pursued  by 
the  woman,  who  followed  her  nearly  to  the  corner  of  the  next 
block,  crying,  “Stop  thief!”  she  managed  to  make  good  her 
escape. 

By  the  advice  of  a  stranger  upon  the  walk,  to  whom  Ellen 
applied  for  protection,  she  stepped  into  the  first  respectable  looking 
house  at  hand,  and  procured  a  bonnet  and  shawl,  and  then  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  the  Police  Court,  and  obtained  a  warrant  for  the  arrest 
of  the  Smith  harridan  and  the  search  of  her  house.  Ellen’s 
clothing  was  found,  and  restored  to  her,  and  the  dashing  procuress 
soon  became  an  inmate  of  a  rank  and  disagreeable  cell  in  the 
County  Jail,  where  she  is  obliged  to  consort  with  other  vile  and 
degraded  women,  and,  perhaps,  bear  the  upbraidings  of  some 
who  were  brought  to  their  fallen  condition  by  her  own  machin¬ 
ations,  and  who,  however  degraded  they  may  be,  and  however 
little  they  may  equal  her  in  exterior  appearance,  cannot  but  be 
her  superiors  in  all  that  goes  to  constitute  virtue  and  honor. 

As  to  the  other  party  engaged  in  this  nefarious  attempt  upon 
Ellen’s  honor,  though  deserving  the  State-prison  or  the  halter,  he 
escaped  scathless,  except,  perhaps,  bleeding  freely  at  the  pocket 
to  prevent  the  procuress  from  divulging  his  name. 

In  this  case,  also,  the  proprietor  of  the  employment  ofiBce  was 
in  league  with  the  keeper  of  the  assignation  house. 

Deal  gitardedly  with  all  intelligence  offices  ! 


CHAPTER  ly. 


Emigrant  Ships  and  Boarding-Houses. 

There  are  exceptions  to  all  general  rules,  and  we  readily  admit 
one  in  the  present  case,  and  say  at  the  outset  that  every  captain 
of  an  emigrant  ship  is  not  unfaithful  to  his  trust  as  a  ship-master 
and  as  a  man;  but  we  do,  nevertheless,  assert  that  “Ocean  Pest- 
House”  and  “  Floating  Hell”  are  the  right  terms  (any  others  would 
be  too  mild — not  half  expressive  enough)  by  which  to  designate 
most  of  our  emigrant  ships;  many  of  whose  trips  to  this  continent 
match  in  respect  to  suffering,  disease,  and  death,  some  of  the  far- 
famed  “  middle  passages”  between  Africa  and  Brazil. 

But  it  is  of  the  moral,  not  the  sanitary  aspects  of  these  voyages 
that  we  are  to  speak.  One  of  our  city  papers,  some  time  since, 
attempted  a  labored  defense  of  American  captains  against  the 
charges  of  the  seduction  and  ill-treatment  of  females  on  board 
emigrant  ships,  as  presented  in  a  memorial  to  Congress  from  the 
Commissioners  of  Emigration  in  this  city,  and  whose  petition 
closes  with  asking  for  the  passage  of  more  stringent  laws  to  meet 
the  case. 

The  gist  of  this  journal’s  remarks  were,  that  it  is  impossible 
for  the  evil  in  question  to  exist  but  to  a  trifling  extent ;  that  the 
present  laws  are  ample  for  the  protection  of  female  passengers ; 
and  that  if  more  severe  statutes  were  enacted,  it  would  but  facil¬ 
itate  the  levying  of  black-mail  upon  ship-masters. 

The  answer  to  this  is,  that  the  savage  cruelties  practiced  upon 
their  crews  by  American  officers,  as  evidenced  in  the  British 
courts,  goes  to  show  such  brutal  ferocity  on  the  part  of  the 
officers  who  inflict,  and  such  reckless  depravity  on  that  of  the 
men  whose  conduct  invites  its  display,  that  it  would  be  folly 
to  believe  that  poor  and  defenseless  female  passengers  would  be 


SAVED  BY  THE  LOST. 

“  Outcast  that  I  am,  I  will  protect  and  save  you,” 


S9 


likely  to  meet  'vrith  any  respect  whatever  at  their  hands.  It  is  the 
guilty,  not  the  innocent,  ^save  it  be  the  innocent  relatives  of  the 
guilty),  who  have  occasion  to  dread  black-mail ;  and  a  stout  sea- 
captain,  who  has  the  command  of  his  two  fists,  is  the  last  man  in 
the  world  for  one  to  venture  to  extort  money  from ;  so  this  por¬ 
tion  of  the  journal’s  argument  partakes  of  the  character  of  a 
damaging  admission.  'We  agree  with  it  as  to  the  folly  of  passing 
more  stringent  enactments  in  this  direction ;  for,  until  some  way 
’  can  be  devised  to  put  existing  laws  in  force,  the  more  severe  the 
statutes  the  more  intense  the  mockery. 

The  truth  is,  that  on  board  emigrant  vessels,  at  the  present 
time,  officers  and  crews  can  have  their  own  way,  without  the 
least  fear  of  being  called  to  account  for  their  ill-doings;  for, 
when  the  vessel  touches  our  shores,  the  nearly  penniless  emigrant 
hastens  at  once  to  his  destination ;  the  few  cabin  passengers  have 
nothing  to  gain  by  mixing  themselves  up  in  such  matters,  and  so 
if  any  outrages  have  been  committed,  there  are  none  left  to  testify 
or  complain  but  the  poor  sufferers  themselves ;  and  how  is  a  help¬ 
less  girl  to  bring  her  case  before  our  courts  ? 

So  hopeless  of  prevention,  under  the  existing  state  of  things, 
seems  this  evil,  that  we  can  only  say  to  the  poor  emigrant  girl — 
“  There  are  vessels  on  hoard  of  which  you  will  he  treated  with  respect 
and  decency ;  so,  when  taking  passage^  search  diligently  for  them ; 
for  if  you  are  unfortunate  in  your  selection^  no  words  of  warning 
we  can  pen  will  save  you  from  the  risk  of  outraged 

As  to  a  remedy  for  this  heinous  offense,  there  seems  but  one 
that  will  prove  effectual :  and  that  is  the  appointment^  hy  the  gov¬ 
ernments  interested^  of  Commissioners,  one  of  which  shall  sail  with 
every  emigrant  vessel,  and  whose  duty  shall  he  to  protect  this  class 
of  passengers  from  harm  by  their  presence  and  their  reports ;  and, 
as  a  matter  of  convenience  and  economy,  perhaps  no  better  party 
could  be  found  for  this  service  than  the  sliip’s  surgeon,  if  care¬ 
fully  selected  hy  government. 

Wb  would  gladly  stop  here  and  say  not  another  word  upon 
this  subject;  but,  as  Public  Opinion  is  the  only  influence  which 
can  incite  the  “  powers  that  be”  to  action  in  the  case,  we  shall  be 
obliged  to  go  somewhat  into  details,  offensive  as  they  are,  in  order 
to  enlighten  the  public  mind,  and  urge  it  to  beneficial  efforts. 


40 


From  the  Commissioners’  memorial  aforesaid,  and  other  sources, 
we  are  advised  that,  after  reaching  the  high  seas  from  European 
ports,  the  captains  of  these  emigrant  vessels  frequently  select 
some  unprotected  female  passenger,  induces  her  to  visit  his  cabin, 
and  when  there,  by  threats  or  promises  of  marriage,  accomplishes 
her  ruin,  and  retains  her  in  his  quarters  for  the  rest  of  the  voyage ; 
this  example  is  followed  by  the  other  officers  of  the  ship:  and 
where  these  viUanies  are  practiced  by  the  officers,  the  most  un¬ 
limited  license  is  taken  by  the  sailors ;  for  the  emigrant  passen¬ 
gers  are  herded  in  together  by  hundreds  in  the  most  wretched  and 
confined  manner,  and  every  facility  is  afforded  for  the  commission 
of  the  most  abominable  crimes. 

There  are  not  unfrequently  from  six  hundred  to  a  thousand 
steerage  passengers  in  a  single  ship,  among  which  number  more 
than  half  will  be  females,  and  the  majority  of  these  young  women 
in  the  prime  of  life.  They  are  on  the  same  deck  with  the 
sailors,  who  have  access  to  their  berths  at  all  hours  of  the  day  and 
night,  and  do  not  fail  to  take  advantage  of  these  circumstances. 
This  is  winked  at  by  the  officers,  to  divert  the  men’s  attention 
from  the  peccadilloes  of  their  superiors. 

Among  a  class  of  people  so  rough  as  sailors,  particularly  where 
they  have  the  power  to  enforce  their  wishes,  love-making  is  not 
likely  to  be  conducted  in  the  most  gentle  manner;  and  conse¬ 
quently  scenes  of  bodily  outrage  and  personal  violence  are  on 
some  vessels  an  every-day  occurrence;  and  many  of  the  poor 
girls  who  arrive  here  have  not  only  been  robbed  of  their  virtue, 
but  are  in  a  condition  which  obliges  the  Health  Inspector  to  send 
them  at  once  to  the  hospital. 

And  not  only  by  the  officers  and  crew  of  the  vessel  are  these 
outrages  committed,  but  regular  agents  for  emigrant  boarding¬ 
houses  go  out  from  this  city  for  the  purpose  of  returning  in  the 
emigrant  ships,  making  the  acquaintance  of  passengers,  ascertain¬ 
ing  who  have  money,  and  inducing  them,  on  their  arrival  here, 
to  go  with  them  to  the  houses  with  which  they,  the  agents,  are 
connected,  where  they  are  fieeced  by  double  and  treble  charges, 
if  not  entirely  robbed  of  their  funds.  But  this  is  not  the  worst 
employment  of  these  agents,  by  any  means ;  they  are  procurers^ 
agents  of  houses  of  ill-fame,  and  not  only  seduce  or  outrage 


41 


women  themselves,  but  take  a  note  of  every  evil  action  that  is 
going  on,  and,  with  the  connivance  of  the  officers,  who  are 
anxious  to  get  rid  of  their  own  victims,  are  prepared,  the  moment 
the  vessel  touches  the  wharf,  to  sweep  into  the  hands  of  the 
hackmen  and  their  other  waiting  assistants,  this  whole  mass  of 
outraged  humanity,  to  be  driven  at  once  to  the  lowest  dens  of  in¬ 
famy,  and  go  to  make  up  the  six  thousand  victims  of  the  “  greatest 
of  our  social  evils,”  which  New  York  annually  demands  and  ob¬ 
tains  of  Christendom. 

It  may  be  asked,  why  do  not  the  men  passengers,  the  husbands 
and  brothers  of  these  wronged  women,  interfere  to  prevent  these 
outrages  ?  The  answer  is  two-fold ;  firstly,  many  emigrants  of  the 
lower  classes  do  not  care  so  much  for  these  things  as  more  re¬ 
fined  and  better-bom  people;  and  secondly,  they  are  afraid  to 
interfere ;  should  any  one  of  them  offer  resistance  singly,  he  would 
soon  be  overpowered ;  and  should  his  friends  aid  or  protect  him, 
it  would  be  treated  as  mutiny,  and  they  would  be  shot  down 
like  dogs.  The  male  lower-class  passengers  are  treated  by  the 
sailors  with  the  most  bratal  violence,  being  kicked  and  knocked 
down  oftentimes  without  the  slightest  provocation.  This  is  a 
notorious  fact,  and  a  man  will  sometimes  put  up  with  injustice 
rather  than  subject  himself  to  being  knocked  over  the  head  with  a 
handspike. 

The  system  adopted  to  bring  about  the  destruction  of  these 
girls  is  the  same  in  nearly  all  cases,  where  soft  words  have  failed 
to  bring  about  the  object.  During  the  first  two  or  three  days, 
passengers  are  perfectly  terrified  by  the  atrocities  and  bodily 
injuries  they  see  inflicted  around  them  upon  the  crew,  who  have 
come  aboard  in  many  cases  in  a  state  of  beastly  intoxication,  which 
condition  they  sustain  for  one  or  two  days  by  means  of  the  hid¬ 
den  stores  of  rum  they  have  contrived  to  smuggle  into  the  vessel. 
Their  incapacity  renders  the  officers  furious,  and  when  the  half-in¬ 
sane  sailor  makes  a  show  of  resistance,  the  life  is  often  nearly 
mangled  out  of  him. 

The  passengers  soon  perceive  that  they  are  embarked  upon  a 
long  and  dreary  voyage,  unarmed,  helpless,  and  perfectly  at  the 
mercy  of  miscreants  whose  acts  have  so  frequently  been  brought 
before  the  pubhc  by  the  press,  that  they  need  not  be  described 

4* 


42 


here.  When  night  sets  in,  each  passenger  retires  to  rest  with  a 
foreboding  mind.  When  all  is  quiet,  and  most  are  asleep,  a 
sudden  shriek  is  heard  from  a  female ;  some  gather  around  her 
in  the  darkness,  and  others  hurrj  for  the  medical  officer.  He 
arrives,  and  finds  a  girl  generally  some  sixteen  or  seventeen  years 
of  age  lying  on  the  floor  between  decks,  with  a  pale  and  terrified 
countenance,  gazing  wildly  from  face  to  face.  He  interrogates 
those  around  as  to  the  cause,  but  they  shake  their  heads,  and 
are  dumb.  He  asks  the  girl  herself ;  she  turns  her  eyes  quickly 
around ;  they  rest  for  a  moment  on  an  officer  of  the  vessel^  who  has 
officiously  attended  the  first  call,  lantern  in  hand;  she  shudders,  says 
she  is  better,  and  desires  to  be  helped  to  her  berth, 

A.  physician  who  was  employed  upon  one  of  these  ships  thus 
mentions  a  case : 

“A  scene  of  the  most  atrocious  villany  occurred  on  board  the 
ship  I  last  sailed  in.  It  was  the  ruin  of  a  fine  young  emigrant 
girl  by,  as  I  suspected,  one  of  the  officers  of  the  vessel. 

“  She  was  visited  by  some  person  at  midnight  who  accomplished 
his  purpose  probably  by  the  use  of  violence  and  threats,  though 
she  would  not  tell  me  the  means  used  nor  the  name  of  the  man; 
she  trembled,  and  appeared  afraid  to  utter  a  word.  The  girl 
was  between  fifteen  and  sixteen,  and,  although  I  daily  con¬ 
versed  with  her  for  four  days,  nothing  could  induce  her  to  give 
up  the  slightest  information  upon  this  point ;  but  a  male  passenger 
who  slept  in  a  bunk  adjoining  hers,  said,  ‘  It  is  all  right  now ; 
we  shall  have  no  more  screaming ;  it  is  all  right,  doctor.’  There 
was  no  mistaking  his  manner  nor  his  mode  of  giving  information ; 
she  was  all  right  for  perdition ;  for  in  a  few  weeks  she  became  one 
of  the  most  abandoned  women  on  board  the  vessel.” 

Perhaps  one  of  these  girls  dies ;  it  may  be  from  ship-fever,  or 
it  may  be  her  death  was  hastened,  if  not  actually  superinduced 
by  some  bodily  outrage,  for  no  one  can  tell  how  many  of  these 
deaths  at  sea  have  some  foul  play  connected  with  them;  and 
then  what  a  funeral  ceremony  does  this  unfortunate  girl  have  1 
No  burial-service,  and  oftentimes  no  pity  or  sorrow  from  those 
who  survive ;  it  may  be,  her  former  female  friends,  with  all  of 
sympathetic  femininity  crushed  out  of  them,  will  be  seen  jeering 
and  laughing  with  the  sailors  as  the  body  of  their  late  com- 


43 


uinion  is  thrown  to  the  deep.  Three  weeks  sinoe  these  girls 
were  quiet,  well-behaved  young  women,  in  whose  faces  you  might 
in  vain  look  for  any  indications  of  that  savage  depravity  we  now 
see  depicted  there.  Oh,  how  quickly  and  how  low  does  woman 
fall  when  she  parts  with  her  purity  1 

Yes,  many  were  modest  girls,  brought  up  virtuously  and  in  strict 
observance  of  their  religious  duties,  and  carried  with  them  from 
home  characters  above  suspicion.  Some  from  necessity,  others 
from  the  invitation  of  friends  who  had  preceded  them,  and  others 
with  the  laudable  ambition  to  lessen  the  burdens  of  their  parents, 
or  to  contribute  to  their  relief  and  comfort  in  the  decline  of  life, 
in  an  evil  hour  decided  to  embark  for  America.  Better  would 
it  have  been  for  such  that  the  vessel  had  gone  down  in  mid-ocean, 
than  that  they  should  reach  these  shores  and  lead  the  life  they  are 
doomed  to. 

Shocking  as  are  these  revelations  respecting  the  emigrant 
ships,  they  are  equaled  by  what  has  been  disclosed  with  reference 
to  the  treatment  of  female  passengers  who,  escaping  the  moral 
perils  of  the  sea,  encounter  those  of  the  land  at  the  emigrant 
boarding-houses.  At  many  of  these  places  the  boarders  are  rob¬ 
bed  unblushingly,  and  when  stripped  of  all  their  goods  and  money 
are  turned  into  the  street ;  in  these  houses,  too,  the  same  un¬ 
scrupulous  means  are  often  resorted  to  in  order  to  ruin  the  girls 
who  enter  them.  Most  of  these  girls  are  strangers  in  the  coun¬ 
try  ;  many  cannot  speak  our  language,  and  none  know  where  to 
apply  for  redress;  and  in  many  cases  they  close  their  mouths 
out  of  dread  of  dire  vengeance  at  the  hands  of  their  persecutors, 
whom  they  imagine  have  the  power  to  execute  their  threats. 

But  it  is  not  only  emigrant  girls  from  these  ships  who  are 
taken  to  these  houses,  some  of  which  assume  the  sign  of  hotels ; 
hackmen,  when  applied  to  by  a  lone  female  who  reaches  the  city 
by  steamboat  or  cars,  instead  of  taking  them  to  their  place  of  des¬ 
tination,  frequently  land  them  at  these  dens,  and  by  carrying  in 
their  baggage  force  them  to  follow;  here  the  poor  woman  is 
fleeced  by  outrageous  charges,  and  sometimes  locked  up  and 
outraged ;  mortification  and  shame  at  her  unwilling  disgrace  pre¬ 
venting  her  when  released  from  avo^ving  the  fact,  or  permitting 
her  friends  to  prosecute  her  persecutors,  or  avenge  her  wrongs ; 


44 


for  what  woman  would  wish  her  name  to  appear  in  public  prints 
as  the  victim  of  such  impositions  or  atrocities  ? 

A  young  girl,  named  Caroline  W - ,  was  missed  a  short  time 

since  from  her  friends ;  she  came  to  New  York  alone  from  Detroit 
to  visit  a  relative,  but  not  appearing  as  expected,  her  friends 
became  alarmed,  and  put  the  police  on  the  track.  After  consider¬ 
able  search,  a  hackman  was  found  who  had  taken  a  girl  of  her 
description  over  the  river,  and  who  was  willing  to  disclose  her 
place  of  abode  for  twenty  dollars.  The  money  being  paid,  the 
officer  was  informed  the  girl  was  at  Williamsburg,  whither  he 
proceeded,  found  the  party  he  was  in  search  of,  and  brought  her 
back  to  the  city. 

It  seems  that  she  arrived  in  the  cars  late  in  the  evening,  and^ap- 
plied  to  a  hackman  to  take  her  to  her  aunt’s  at  the  upper  part  of  the 
city ;  but  the  fellow  abducted  her  in  the  most  outrageous  man¬ 
ner  ; — ^under  the  plea  that  it  was  too  late  to  take  her  so  far  up 
town,  and  with  a  promise  to  place  her  at  a  respectable  hotel  for 
the  night,  the  fellow  seated  her  in  his  coach,  into  which  another  i 
hackman  got,  and  they  carried  her  to  a  half-hotel,  half-boarding- 
house,  kept  by  a  woman  in  the  lower  part  of  the  city,  where  she 
remained  over  night  and  the  next  day,  not  knowing  where  to  go 
or  what  to  do. 

The  second  evening,  as  she  was  seated  in  her  chamber,  a  gen¬ 
tleman  entered,  who  proved  to  be  more  of  a  man  than  many  who 
visit  such  places  for  such  purposes ;  for  he  shortly  came  back  to 
the  hag  who  had  sent  him  up  stairs,  and  said  to  her,  “  Madam  I 
though  I  visit  houses  like  this  of  yours,  I  never  will  have  to  do 
with  those  who  are  in  them,  unwillingly,  and  least  of  all  with  a* 
child  like  this  you  have  sent  me  to.” 

He  went  at  once  to  the  police  office,  but  before  he  could  re¬ 
turn  with  an  officer,  some  other  party,  probably  under  pretense  of 
rescuing  her  from  her  danger,  persuaded  her  to  go  to  Williams¬ 
burg,  to  the  place  where  the  officer  found  her. 

In  the  police  court  this  girl  testified  that  the  proprietress  of 
the  house  to  which  she  was  taken  threatened  if  she  did  not  con¬ 
sent  to  what  was  required  of  her,  she  should  be  whipped,  and 
thrown  out  into  the  street ;  she  was  but  fourteen  years  of  age, 
and,  though  from  her  youth  and  inexperience,  liable  to  be  led  into 


I 


45 

difficulties,  she  had  the  firmness  to  resist  all  attempts  upon  her 
honor. 

Another  hotel  case,  which  occurred  at  Chicago,  is  given  here  to 
show  the  rashness,  the  almost  wickedness,  of  sending  young  girls 
on  a  journey  ^vithout  a  protector.  It  is  also  presented  to  show 
that  even  among  these  abandoned  women,  whose  occupation  is  the 
keeping  of  houses  of  assignation  or  ill-fame,  there  are  some  who 
do. not  part  with  all  their  better  feelings,  and  who,  whOe  ready 
to  receive  an  erring  or  unfortunate  woman  into  their  dwellings, 
will  not  deceive  them,  or  permit  them  to  be  abused.  It  is  taken 
from  the  Chicago  Journal : 

“  A  few  days  since  a  young  Canada  lady,  about  thirteen  or 
fourteen  years  of  age,  came  to  the  city  from  Canada,  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  meeting  her  father,  who  had  been  to  the  West  on  business, 
and  put  up  at  the  Tremont  House.  Not  meeting  him,  as  she 
had  anticipated,  she  became  uneasy.  At  the  Tremont  House  she 
met  a  man  who  gave  his  name  as  Gr.  D.  Black.  This  wretch  rep¬ 
resented  to  her  that  a  public  hotel  was  no  place  for  her,  and  that 
he  would  procure  a  private  boarding-house  for  her  till  she  could 
find  her  father.  She  acceded  to  his  proposition,  and  the  villain 
gave  her  the  following  letter  to  a  woman  named  Kate  Howard, 
who  keeps  a  house  of  ill-repute  at  No.  —  Well-street: 

“  ‘  Dear  Mada^i — You  will  confer  a  great  favor  on  me  by  keep¬ 
ing  - in  your  house,  and  you  can  do  as  you  like  with 

her.  She  don’t  know  where  I  am  sending  her  to.  Be  kind  to 
her,  and  tell  her  that  you  will  give  her  five  doUars  a  week  and 
board.  I  have  took  all  her  money  away  from  her.  I  will  call 
on  you  in  a  week.  Keep  dark.  G.  D.  Black.’ 

“Thus  this  infernal  ruffian  planned  the  destruction  of  an  in¬ 
nocent  young  girl,  but  he  was  doomed  to  be  disappointed.  When 
the  girl  presented  herself  at  Kate  Howard’s,  that  woman,  to  her 
honor  be  it  said,  asked  her  if  she  knew  to  what  kind  of  a  house 
her  pretended  friend  had  sent  her.  The  girl  answered.  No.  Kate 
said,  ‘  He  has  sent  you  to  a  house  of  prostitution,  and  I  am  the 
keeper  of  it,  but  I  have  not  forgotten  that  I  was  once  an  innocent 
child  like  yourself^  or  that  I  once  had  a  mother  as,  perhaps,  you 


46 


hare,  and  I  will  protect  and  defend  you,  outcast  and  fallen  as  I 
am.  Come  out  of  this  den  at  once — it  is  no  place  for  the  like  of 
you.’  Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  woman  took  the  poor, 
friendless  girl  to  a  respectable  Grerman  family  in  the  neighbor¬ 
hood,  and  paid  for  her  board  and  lodging  out  of  her  own  pocket. 
In  the  morning,  she  sent  for  one  of  our  detective  police  oflScers 
and  placed  the  girl  in  his  keeping,  and  yesterday  she  was  re¬ 
stored  to  the  arms  of  her  father.” 

Now,  we  have  faith  to  believe  that  this  woman  was  originally 
the  victim  of  deception,  if  not  of  a  worse  sin,  and  would  have 
gladly  escaped  from  a  life  of  shame  if  fortune  and  society  would 
have  permitted  her.  At  all  events,  in  the  above  case  she  did 
herself  lasting'*  honor ;  it  was  an  act  she  can  always  reflect  with 
a  daily  pleasure  upon ;  she  has  laid  up  for  herself  a  death-bed  com¬ 
fort  ;  and  whatever  her  future,  no  matter  how  low  or  degraded 
this  woman  may  become,  we  trust  that  in  her  last  hour  the  hand 
of  that  rescued  girl  will  be  laid  upon  her  brow,  and  her  voice 
breathe  mto  her  ear  both  thanks  and  prayers, — it  is  the  smallest 
return  she  can  make  her. 

And  now,  rich,  or  respectable,  or  fortunate,  or  happy  reader, 
with  this  example  of  a  poor  fallen  and  yet  noble-hearted  woman 
before  your  eyes,  what  will  you  do  toward  remedying  the  evils 
this  book  treats  upon ;  more  especially,  how  will  you  participate 
in  the  Public  Opinion  which  should  be  brought  to  bear  upon  the 

Emigeation  System. 


CHAPTER  y. 


PUNISHMENTS  OF  SEDUCERS. 

Or  all  misfortunes  that  at  times  overwhelm  poor  humanity, 
none  are  so  prostrating,  poignant,  and  enduring  as  the  inconti¬ 
nence  of  husband,  wife,  mother,  sister,  or  daug^iter.  Respect 
and  esteem  for  such  as  bear  these  relations  to  us  are  essential  to 
give  those  relations  value ;  and  when  impurity  degrades  those 
we  have  loved,  cherished,  looked  up  to,  or  leant  upon,  we  not  only 
lose  an  idol,  but  often  part  with  the  power  again  to  worship  one. 
When  death  snatches  from  us  near,  dear,  and  worthy  friends, 
we  may  mourn  their  departure,  but  there  still  is  left  us  the  sad 
pleasure  of  recalling  them  to  mind,  and  we  can,  in  a  measure,  re¬ 
place  them  by  others ;  but  when  moral  deformity  blasts  our 
cherished  ones,  their  living  corpses  are  left,  as  it  were,  to  walk 
the  earth  and  mock  us — our  angels  are  not  translated;  they  are 
changed  to  demons — and  we  fear  to  love  others,  lest  they  too  may 
change ;  we  even  think  that  the  good  about  us  are  but  seeming 
good,  and  so  permit  the  sources  of  our  highest  enjoj^ments  to  dry 
up  within  us,  and  learn  to  hate  mankind,  ourselves  included. 

Of  all  the  wrongs  one  man  can  inflict  upon  another,  the  seduc¬ 
tion  of  wife  or  daughter  is  the  most  maddening.  For  more  than 
the  reasons  just  given,  to  murder  them  outright  would  not  be  so 
afflicting ;  for  in  the  latter  case  the  sympathy  of  the  world  would 
be  with  the  sufferer — in  the  former,  its  derision  or  its  pity,  which 
is  as  much  as  to  say,  its  contempt;  for  words  of  consolation  at  such 
times  are  received  as  insults — they,  in  fact,  being  but  reminders 
of  disgrace.  The  seducer  not  only  robs  the  good  husband  or 
father  of  perhaps  his  greatest  treasure,  but  brands  him  with  a 
mark,  which  for  all  his  lifetime,  causes  men  and  women  to  point 
a  finger  at  him ;  and  when  such  husband,  or  father,  or  brother, 


ANOTHER  CAIN. 

“My  punisliment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear.’ 


49 


asks  himself,  “  What  have  I  done  to  this  man  that  he  should  in¬ 
flict  this  great  wrong  upon  me  ?”  and  the  reply  is,  “  Nought, 
for  he  was  as  a  stranger  to  me or  when  the  reply  comes  back 
(as  in  the  case  of  S — k — s),  like  to  a  shower  of  rankling  poisoned 
arrows,  “  He  was  my  friend ;  I  never  injured,  I  always  showered 
favors  upon  him,”  is  there  any  wonder  that  the  ipjured  man 
should  become  crazed  with  the  desire  of  revenge,  and  inflict  in¬ 
stant  punishment  upon  the  offender,  or  that  juries  made  up  of 
husbands  and  fathers  should  virtually  say,  “  If  the  accused  was 
not  insane  at  the  time  he  destroyed  the  destroyer,  it  was  his 
duty  to  become  so  ?”  and  that  the  press  and  the  pulpit  should 
cry  “Amen,  and  amen!”  to  such  verdicts? 

Perhaps  no  stronger  case  exists  illustrative  of  the  overwhelm¬ 
ing  desperation,  sometimes  consequent  upon  a  sudden  knowledge 
of  a  child’s  fall  from  virtue,  than  the  following,  the  details  of  which 
were  received  from  a  citizen  of  Boston : 

In  a  New  England  city  there  resided,  many  years  since,  a 
wealthy  merchant — a  generous,  noble-spirited,  and  high-toned 
gentleman.  The  death  of  his  wife  left  upon  his  hands  the  sole 
care  of  a  son  and  a  daughter,  on  whose  education  he  spared  no 
expense,  and  whose  future  good  seemed  to  be  the  sole  aim  of  his 
existence.  The  son  was  a  type  of  his  father — proud,  yet  gentle 
and  genial,  and  much  beloved  by  all  his  school-mates,  of  whom 
the  narrator  was  one.  His  sister,  by  some  years  his  senior,  was 
a  perfect  model  in  form  and  feature,  and  of  so  attractive  beauty 
that  the  elder  lads  habitually  went  out  of  their  route  to  and 
from  school  in  order  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  loveliness,  some¬ 
times  being  greeted  with  a  blush  and  sometimes  an  angry  frown, 
but  much  preferring  the  latter,  since,  in  the  words  of  one,  “  it 
made  her  look  so  like  a  queen,”  and  generally  having  their  wishes 
gratified  in  this  respect,  as  she  soon  learned  the  object  of  their 
passing,  and  felt  much  annoyed  and  often  angered  by  the  upstart 
attentions  of  the  youngsters. 

At  the  age  of  nineteen  she  was  fi.rst  introduced  to  the  world ; 
and  her  position,  attractions,  and  amiability  secured  for  her  a  re¬ 
ception  such  as  the  fondest  and  proudest  father  might  be  content 
with.  And  proud  and  happy  was  that  father,  but  only  for  a 
brief  season,  for  his  high  anticipations  were  suddenly  blasted 


50 


through  the  act  of  his  family  physician,  who,  though  a  married 
man,  and  some  years  the  young  lady’s  senior,  was  altogether  too 
young  and  too  weak  to  be  placed  in  the  way  of  such  temptation, 
while  the  mother  being  dead,  and  the  daughter  therefore  deprived 
of  the  counsels  and  warnings  against  the  dangers  which  environ 
every  attractive  young  woman,  the  poor  girl  was  necessarily  open 
to  seductive  and  evil  influences. 

What  were  the  arts  this  betrayer  of  his  sacred  trust  used,  or 
what  incentives  to  passion  he,  acting  as  her  medical  adviser,  ad¬ 
ministered,  were  never  made  public ;  suffice  to  say  that  the  mer¬ 
chant,  on  returning  home  quite  early  from  his  counting-room  one 
day,  in  consequence  of  being  ill,  was  made  suddenly  cognizant 
of  his  daughter’s  dishonor  and  his  physician’s  perfidy.  Not  a 
word  did  the  old  man  speak,  but  rushing  from  the  parlor  in 
which  he  surprised  the  guilty  couple,  he  gained  the  street,  and 
hatless,  with  his  gray  locks  streaming  in  the  air,  and  hands  at 
times  upraised  and  then  smitten  together  in  frantic  agony,  he 
flew  madly  over  the  pavement  straight  to  the  river’s  side,  and 
with  an  unhesitating  bound  buried  his  grief  and  his  shame  be¬ 
neath  its  waves  forever.  The  physician  fled  to  Europe.  The 
girl  was  removed  far  away.  The  brother  went  into  exile  in 
some  southern  state ;  twenty  years  after  this  event  he  was  met 
by  the  narrator,  and  though  then  but  thirty-five  years  of  age,  his 
once  dark  hair  was  gray  like  that  of  men  at  fifty-five. 

What  a  series  of  calamities  for  a  few  moments  of  sensual  grat¬ 
ification  1  What  a  load  of  remorse  for  that  betrayer  to  carry 
through  life  !  The  picture  of  despair  and  self-murder  which  that 
old  man  burnt,  as  it  were,  into  this  seducer’s  brain,  and  which 
must  ever  stand  out  to  his  mental  sight,  was  a  far  worse  punish¬ 
ment  than  either  the  son  or  society  could  inflict — he  might  well 
pray  that  the  brother’s  bullet  should  efface  the  vision.  In  this 
case  all  retribution  could  well  be  left  to  a  higher  tribunal 
“  Vengeance  is  mine,  I  will  repay  it,”  saith  the  Lord. 

Another  case  of  sudden  desperation,  resulting  in  the  taking 
of  life  from  a  similar  cause,  but  differing  from  the  above,  in  that 
an  outraged  husband  was  the  chief  actor,  was  the  celebrated 
Reapers  and  Lock  affair,  which  occurred  at  Washington  City, 
in  1859. 


61 


This  noted  case  not  only  involved  seduction,  but  breach  of 
friendship  and  of  trust.  Reapers  was  prominent  as  a  politician, 
was  a  man  of  wealth,  maintaining  an  establishment  at  the  capi¬ 
tal,  and  ranking  high  in  the  social  scale  of  that  city.  He  was 
possessed  of  a  handsome  young  wife,  of  whom  he  was  quite 
proud,  and  to  whom,  as  the  sequel  will  show,  he  was  very  much 
attached.  But  in  this,  as  in  the  Drugman  case,  recorded  in  a 
previous  chapter,  by  the  neglect  of  home  for  the  sake  of  ambition 
end  show,  he  not  only  quenched  the  brightness  of  that  home, 
but  lost  along  with  it  position,  political  influence,  the  respect  of 
the -world,  and,  as  most  assert,  self-respect  also. 

Lock,  also,  was  a  man  of  note,  holding  an  office  in  the  gift  of 
the  president,  and,  singularly  enough,  the  very  office  upon  which 
devolved  the  prosecution  of  the  offence  to  the  laws,  which  caused 
his  own  death ;  and  in  pursuance  of  his  duties,  had  actually 
prosecuted  a  young  man  for  shooting  a  seducer.  He  was  a  wid¬ 
ower  and  a  rake — a  sort  of  Don  Juan — the  very  description  of 
man  Reapers  should  have  striven  to  keep  away  from  his  dwelling, 
but  whom,  on  the  contrary,  he  not  only  invited  into  it,  but  in 
whose  care  he  at  times  left  his  wife,  while  he  himself  attended  to 
the  more  important  “business  of  the  state.”  Lock  diligently 
availed  himself  of  these  privileges,  and  soon  became  Mrs.  R.’s 
cicisebo,  and  her  almost  constant  attendant  to  balls,  parties, 
soirees,  the  theatre,  etc.,  and  such  was  the  confidence  reposed 
in  this  friend,  (?)  so  certain  was  he  of  his  gratitude  for  the  many 
favors  he  had  bestowed  upon  him,  that  when  public  scandal  at 
one  time  compelled  him  to  call  on  Lock  for  explanations,  the  in¬ 
terview  resulted  in  the  mistaken  husband  having  more  confidence 
in  the  honor  of  his  friend  than  ever. 

But  the  reckless  course  of  the  guilty  couple  was  continually 
exposing  their  unhallowed  intercourse  to  the  ken  of  a  curious 
public.  Lock  hired  a  tenement  in  a  lone  quarter  of  the  city,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  meeting  his  inamorata  there ;  and  an 
anonymous  letter,  from  one  of  the  lady’s  rivals  for  Lock’s  favors, 
having  pointed  out  the  place  of  assignation  to  the  husband,  he 
placed  trusty  spies  upon  his  wife’s  track,  and  so  brought  homo 
the  fact  of  her  incontinence  to  her,  that  she  admitted  her  guilt, 
put  her  confession  in  writing,  and  thus  placed  herself  at  his  mercy 


62 


— in  less  than  twenty  hours  after,  Eeapers,  meeting  Locke  upon 
the  public  street,  shot  him  dead. 

This  affair  occurring,  as  it  did,  at  the  capital  of  the  nation, 
created  an  immense  sensation  throughout  the  country,  and  during 
the  progress  of  Reapers’  trial,  the  newspapers  teemed  with  in* 
terminable  discussions  as  to  the  measure  of  the  homicide’s  of¬ 
fence  and  what  should  be  done  with  him. 

Some  termed  the  act  a  cold-blooded  murder,  deserving  of  the 
gallows ;  others  considered  it  a  case  of  justifiable  homicide.  Some 
declared  that  Reapers’  previous  career  deprived  him  of  the  right 
to  act  the  “injured  husband,”  or,  in  other  words,  to  defend  the 
sanctity  of  his  own  hearth.  Many  affirmed  that  Lock  deserved 
death,  at  the  hands  of  the  lady  herself,  for  having  publicly 
boasted  of  his  conquest  over  her ;  and  at  the  hands  of  the  hus¬ 
band,  not  alone  for  the  seduction,''but  for  the  breach  of  trust  re¬ 
posed  in  him,  aggravated,  as  it  was,  by  ingratitude  for  the  many 
favors  Reapers  had  generously  bestowed  upon  him ;  Lock,  in 
fact,  owing  his  then  place  and  position  mainly  to  Reapers’  ex¬ 
ertions. 

But  the  list  of  aggravating  circumstances,  which  led  to  Lock’s 
immediate  destruction,  is  not  yet  filled.  At  the  moment  the 
stricken  man  was  bowed  down  to  the  earth,  as  it  were,  with 
grief,  mortification,  and  shame — when  he  was  picturing  to  himself 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  fixed  upon  himself,  some  with 
triumph,  some  with  commiseration,  but  all  with  contempt;  in 
that  hour  of  anguish,  when,  burying  his  face  in  his  pillow,  he 
cried  out  to  his  bosom  friend,  “I  am  a  dishonored  and  ruined 
man,  I  cannot  look  you  in  the  face,”  he  was  told  that  in  front  of 
his  house  walked  the  ingrate  and  seducer,  waving  in  the  air  a 
handkerchief,  the  signal  alike  of  another  designed  attack  upon 
Reapers’  honor,  and  the  flaunting  banner  of  Lock’s  conquest. 

Was  this  not  too  much  for  the  friend,  the  husband,  the  man,  to 
endure ;  could  any  thing  be  devised  for  sinking  the  human  and 
raising  the  demon  in  a  man’s  breast  that  would  compare  with 
this?  “My  God!  this  is  too  horrible,”  cried  the  now  frantic 
man,  and  hurrying  for  his  arms,  he  rushed  out  after  the  (to  his 
eyes)  fiendish  figure  which  seemed  to  have  been  beckoning  him 
to  destroy  it,  and  proceeded  to  the  commission  of  a  deed,  awful 


63 


In  itself,  but  which  a  jury  of  his  countrymen  declared  to  be  ex¬ 
cusable,  before  the  world  and  the  law.  And  in  this  acquittal  the 
previous  “libertine  career,”  with  which  the  prisoner  was  charged, 
was  by  no  means  lost  sight  of;  the  verdict  of  the  jury  was,  that 
every  man  had  a  right  to  defend  the  sanctity  of  his  own  bed  un¬ 
der  all  circumstances;  but,  at  the  same  time,  it  failed  not  to 
place  the  shirt  of  Nemesis  upon  the  prisoner’s  back ;  for,  in  his 
discharge,  was  foreshadowed  the  discharge  of  all  husbands  who 
may  hereafter  revenge  upon  Reapers  a  similar  outrage  of  his  upon 
their  honor. 

But  the  most  striking  part  of  this  whole  affair,  and  that  which 
brought  upon  the  already  overloaded  and  crushed  sufferer  a 
mountain  of  contempt,  was  that  he  should  again  take  his  wife  to 
his  bosom.  Two  reasons  are  given  for  the  public’s  dissatisfac¬ 
tion,  not  to  say  disgust,  with  him  for  this  act.  One  is,  that  hav¬ 
ing  so  dishonored  her  husband,  the  woman  became  so  vile  that 
her  husband  could  not  stoop  to  reinstate  her  without  disgrac¬ 
ing  himself;  and  another  reason  assumes,  that  if  he  could  take 
back  his  erring  wife  so  easily,  his  estimate  of  the  wrong  done  to 
himself  was  not  sufficient  to  justify  the  taking  the  life  of  her 
seducer. 

But  is  not  this  reasoning  altogether  too  man-ish  ? — the  mere 
dictate  of  pride.  To  the  writer  it  seems  this  man  had  ihe  moral 
courage  to  do  his  duty.  "Was  the  unfortunate  woman  without  ex¬ 
cuse  ;  had  she  no  rights  that  had  been  trampled  upon?  Had  not 
her  husband  set  her  sad  examples  by  violating  his  marriage  vow? 
Had  he  not  neglected,  when  he  should  have  cherished  her?  Had 
he  not  committed  her  as  it  were  to  the  care  of  a  known  liber¬ 
tine,  when  he  should  have  protected  her  against  him,  and  per¬ 
mitted  another  man  to  show  her  attentions  that  were  due  solely 
from  himself?  Had  he  more  to  forgive  than  to  be  forgiven? 
— and  the  child,  should  she  be  left  to  learn  of  one  parent  to  hate 
and  despise  the  other  ? 

The  real  motive  which  led  this  unhappy  man  to  take  back  an 
erring  wife,  time  will  make  evident.  If  the  two  now  live,  and 
shall  continue  to  live,  pleasantly  together,  and  shall  bring  up 
their  child  carefully  and  respectably,  then  this  act  which  thf) 
world  now  so  harshly  condemns,  will  stand  to  Reapers’  everlasu 


54 


ing  credit.  It  will  prove  that  he  had  the  mo/rdimss  to  be  just  even 
to  a  woman  ]  the  generosity  to  offset  forgiveness  with  forgive¬ 
ness;  while  he  will  at  the  same  time  exhibit  due  gratitude 
to  the  jury  who  saved  him  from  an  ignominious  fate,  by  show¬ 
ing  to  them,  and  to  the  world,  that  their  verdict  was  a  wise  one, 
since  it  led  to  good  results. 

At  the  very  time  the  above  case  was  on  trial  at  Washington, 
and  invaders  of  husbands’  rights  were  being  warned  by  the  sad 
fate  of  Lock,  the  following  appeared  in  a  Western  paper: 

“  The  inhabitants  of  our  city  were  thrown  into  a  state  of  ex¬ 
citement  by  a  lamentable  affair  occurring  on  Saturday  night  last. 
It  appears  that  for  some  time  past  a  citizen  engaged  in  the 
saddlery  business  has  entertained  suspicions  of  the  virtue  of  his 
wife,  and  resolved  to  satisfy  himself  in  regard  to  the  matter. 
Accordingly,  on  Saturday  last,  he  informed  his  family  that  he 
should  leave  in  the  evening  for  Cincinnati.  About  nine  o’clock, 
however,  he  returned  unexpectedly  to  his  home,  and  found  his 
worst  fears  realized.  A  neighbor  of  his,  who  was  possessed  of 
considerable  means,  was  the  intruder.  The  injured  husband 
found  the  guilty  couple  in  bed,  and  without  an  instant’s  delay, 
he  drew  a  revolver  and  shot  the  seducer  dead.  He  then  left  the 
house  and  gave'  himself  up  to  the  authorities.” 

Shortly  after,  a  Troy  paper  gave  an  account  of  a  similar  ex¬ 
hibition  of  a  husband’s  rage.  Fortunately,  however,  for  the 
seducer,  the  result  was  less  tragical. 

“  Some  time  since,  a  wealthy  man  and  one  of  position,  of  Fifth 
avenue.  New  York,  visited  Troy.  He  made  the  acquaintance  of 
a  married  woman  there — an  angel  in  every  thing  but  virtue,  and 
an  improper  intimacy  at  once  sprang  up  between  them.  In 
course  of  time  the  state  of  things  became  known  to  the  husband 
of  the  erring  woman,  who  put  himself  in  a  position  to  watch  the 
progress  of  events.  Late  one  night,  when  he  was  supposed  to 
be  almost  anywhere  else,  he  caught  his  delinquent  wife  and  her 
metropolitan  paramour  emerging  from  a  vehicle  in  front  of  a 
well-known  disreputable  establishment  on  River  street.  His 
words  were  few — his  actions,  by  the  aid  of  a  slung-shot,  spoke 
for  themselves.  When  his  manifestations  were  completed,  the 
New  Yorker  might  as  well  have  been  in  Africa  as  in  Troy,  for 


55 


all  ine  consciousness  he  possessed  of  his  whereabouts.  He  was 
taken  up  to  his  hotel,  where  the  surgeon  who  was  summoned 
said  he  would  die.  This  alarmed  the  husband,  who  at  once 
made  himself  exceedingly  scarce.  The  wife,  thus  left  without 
restraint,  took  upon  herself  the  treatment  of  her  paramour,  and 
during  more  than  five  weeks,  while  he  was  confined  to  his  room, 
nursed  him  assiduously.  But  he  did  not  die.  So  the  husband 
returned,  and  not  only  returned,  but  made  an  application  for 
divorce,  which  was  allowed  to  go  by  default — the  wife  having 
no  defence  to  make.” 

0.  R.,  a  returned  Californian,  who  avenged  his  wife’s  dishonor 
by  stabbing  and  trying  to  shoot  her  reverend  seducer,  was  tried  at 
the  Windham  (Conn.)  Superior  Court,  and  fined  four  dollars,  and 
sentenced  for  a  few  months  to  the  county  jail.  He  plead  guilty 
to  simple  assault  and  battery ;  the  “  intent  to  kill  ”  was  omitted. 

Jealousy  is  a  headlong  passion,  and  every  man  (and  woman 
as  well)  should  carefully  steel  themselves  against  being  carried 
away  by  it,  as  the  following  incident  serves  to  make  evident : 

“  A  man  out  in  Ohio  was  recently  jealous  of  a  lawyer  who 
frequently  visited  his  wife  during  his  absence  from  home.  He 
laid  a  plan  to  kill  him,  and  was  about  to  carry  it  into  effect,  when 
one  day  his  wife  presented  him  with  eight  thousand  dollars, 
which  she  had  received  from  the  estate  of  a  deceased  uncle  who 
was  unknown  to  her  husband — the  money  having  been  secured 
to  her  through  the  exertions  of  the  lawyer,  whom  she  had  se¬ 
cretly  employed,  with  a  view  of  giving  her  husband  an  agreeable 
surprise.” 

The  West  Troy  Democrat  makes  this  statement: 

“The  citizens  of  Stillwater,  Jefferson  County,  N.  T.,  were 
thrown  into  great  excitement  on  Friday,  by  a  report  which 
reached  us  about  sunset,  that  Hiram  D.  Case  had  been  shot  by 
Arthur  Holden,  for  improper  relations  with  his  (Holden’s)  daugh¬ 
ter.  Last  December  he  came  home,  and  stayed  about  here  for 
three  weeks,  and  during  the  time  got  acquainted  with  Miss 
Holden.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  poor  man,  but  bore  a  good 
character.  Case,  under  promise  of  marriage,  ruined  her.  As 
soon  as  her  father  knew  this,  he  swore  that  Case  should  answer 
for  the  crime  with  his  life.  Case  came  down  to  Holden’s,  when 


66 


Holden,  as  he  entered  the  gate,  shot  him  through  the  heart  with 
a  rifle.  He  died  almost  instantly.  Holden  gave  himself  up  to 
the  authorities,  and  made  no  resistance,  simply  remarking  that 
he  had  done  his  duty.” 

At  Buena  Yista,  Tennessee,  Mr.  John  F.  Jackson,  an  opulent 
gentleman  of  that  village,  was  informed  that  his  daughter,  a  girl 
of  eighteen  years,  had  been  seduced  by  Dr.  Bunch.  He  forth¬ 
with  sought  the  man,  and  demanded  that  he  should  repair  the 
wrong.  The  Doctor  declined  at  the  time,  and  Jackson  gave  him 
three  weeks  to  reconsider  or  leave  the  country.  At  the  expira¬ 
tion  of  that  time.  Bunch,  still  declining  to  heal  the  wounds  he 
had  inflicted,  the  parent,  restive  with  the  sense  of  wounded 
honor,  shot  Bunch  down  in  his  oflBce.  He  died  instantly.  Jack- 
son  delivej;ed  himself  into  custody. 

In  1858,  James  Morgan  was  tried  at  the  Circuit  Court  at  St. 
Joseph,  Missouri,  on  the  charge  of  abducting  Miss  Lucretia  Grey, 
with  a  view  to  seducing  her,  and  was  found  guilty,  and  sentenced 
to  the  state  prison  for  two  years  and  a  half.  Miss  Grey,  a  good- 
looking  young  lady,  seventeen  years  old,  was  living  with  her 
mother,  a  widow  lady  in  destitute  circumstances,  in  Chillicothe, 
where  she  made  the  acquaintance  of  Morgan.  He  treated  her 
with  more  than  ordinary  respect,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course^ 
succeeded  in  gaining  her  confidence.  He  abducted  her  and 
brought  her  to  this  city,  took  lodgings  at  a  hotel,  where  he  reg¬ 
istered  as  man  and  wife.  At  night,  he  went  to  her  room,  and 
doubtless  thought  that  rather  than  raise  a  disturbance,  the  wo¬ 
man  would  yield  to  his  entreaties.  But  in  this  he  was  mistaken. 
This  style  of  proceeding  is  not  uncommon  among  unprincipled 
men ;  and  it  is  well,  as  an  example,  that  the  young  lady  in  this 
instance  had  the  courage  to  bring  the  villain  to  justice. 

In  1851,  Hardesty,  a  young  man  of  Boone  County,  Kentucky, 
was  tried  and  acquitted  for  killing  another  young  man,  named 
Grubb,  who  had  seduced  his  sister.  Hardesty  told  the  seducer 
that  he  would  give  him  six  months  in  which  to  make  his  choice 
between  marrying  the  girl  and  being  killed.  The  six  months 
expired,  and  Grubb  not  having  married  the  girl,  Hardesty  met 
him,  and  on  sight,  shot  him.  The  evidence  showed  that  Grubb 
was  armed  also,  in  expectation  of  the  attack,  but  was  shot  in 


67 


the  act  of  drawing  his  weapon.  The  trial  excited  very  great  in¬ 
terest,  and  the  verdict  of  the  jury  was,  “Not  guilty.”  The  fol¬ 
lowing  is  the  substance  of  the  judgment  pronounced  by  Judge 
Nutall  upon  the  verdict  of  “Not  guilty,”  by  the  jury  in  behalf 
of  Hardesty: 

“Sir:  You  have  been  indicted  by  a  grand  jury  of  your  country  upon  a 
most  heinous  charge.  You  have  put  yourself  upon  your  country  and 
your  God  for  deliverance.  You  have  had  a  fair  and  impartial  trial  before 
them,  and  they  have  both  pronounced  you  not  guilty,  and  so  say  I.  It 
may  not  be  proper  for  me  to  express  my  sentiments,  yet,  nevertheless,  I 
will  do  it  Young  manl  had  I  been  wronged  as  you  have  been,  I  would 
have  spent  every  dollar  I  had  on  earth,  and  all  that  I  could  have  begged 
or  borrowed,  and  then  starved  upon  the  track  of  the  villain,  but  I  would 
have  imbrued  my  hands  in  his  blood.  Go  hence  without  delay.  You  are 
acquitted  1” 

The  verdict  of  the  jury  and  the  judgment  of  the  court  were 
both  received  amid  the  applause  of  a  full  Court  House. 

The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  in  this  instance  the  se¬ 
ducer  had  the  opportunity  to  make  restitution^  and  refused; 
pence,  he  was  entitled  to  neither  mercy  nor  pity. 


CHAPTER  YI. 


PUNISHMENT  OP  SEDUCERS. 

The  foregoing  chapter  illustrates  the  maddening  effect  upon 
men  which  results  from  a  knowledge  of  a  wife,  sister’s,  or  daugh¬ 
ter’s  fall,  and  the  indisposition  of  jurors  to  punish  the  husband, 
father  or  brother,  who  avenge  their  kindred’s  wrongs ;  many  will 
very  naturally  suppose  that  the  jury  which  would  favor  the 
avenger,  could  well  be  trusted  to  punish,  by  its  verdict,  the  se¬ 
ducer,  and  that  therefore  no  necessity  exists  for  any  man’s  taking 
the  law  into  his  own  hands. 

This  might  be  so,  were  such  prosecutions  conducted  in  our 
courts  in  any  thing  like  a  just  and  decent  manner ;  but  it  is  well 
known  that  the  counsel  for  the  defence,  in  all  such  cases,  delib¬ 
erately  aim  to  make  all  such  trials  as  disgusting  and  farcical  as 
possible,  in  order  to  shock  and  embarrass  the  complainant,  de¬ 
stroy  the  effect  of  her  testimony  upon  the  jury,  and  unfit  them 
for  taking  a  serious  view  of  the  matter ;  and  as  most  libertines 
have  companions  as  base  as  themselves,  who  are  ever  ready  to 
swear  to  any  thing  and  every  thing  that  will  help  one  of  their  own 
ilk  out  of  difficulty,  there  is  seldom  any  lack  of  counter-testi¬ 
mony,  or  of  false  and  prurient  details  for  lawyers  to  work  with. 

In  the  case  stated  upon  the  previous  page,  a  young  woman 
had  justice  done  her — ^but  that  was  one  of  attempted  seduction 
only ;  had  the  villain  succeeded  in  his  base  attempt,  no  such  trial 
would  have  come  off.  For  what  young  woman  of  delicacy  had 
not  rather  suffer  in  silence,  or  go  drown  herself,  than  to  stand 
up  in  open  court  before  the  crowd  of  unsympathizing  and  ribald 
men  which  all  such  trials  draw  together,  and  there  endure  the 
cross-questioning  of  some  heartless  lawyer — a  part  of  whose 
tactics  is  to  put  her  to  confusion  and  shame,  and  who,  in  plead- 


59 


ing  his  client’s  case,  may  possibly  be  preparing  himself  to  con¬ 
duct  his  own — and  then  to  crown  all,  have  the  press  wing  the 
the  scandalous  details  to  every  fireside  in  the  landl 

In  truth,  it  is  actually  not  respectable  to  carry  a  case  of  seduction 
or  of  violation  into  our  courts^  and  this  circumstance  libertines 
count  upon  and  profit  by. 

The  “  Harby  Trial,”  so  called,  which  took  place  at  New  Orleans 
in  June,  1858,  is  confirmatory  of  this  assertion. 

This  trial  was  the  most  interesting  and  the  most  dramatic  in 
its  incidents  that  has  ever  been  seen  in  New  Orleans. 

APPEARANCE  OP  THE  PRISONER. 

The  prisoner,  Mr.  Harby,  a  respectable-looking  little  old  man, 
with  gray  hair  and  wearing  spectacles,  took  his  seat  at  the  bar 
in  company  with  his  counsel,  Mr.  Durant.  For  thirty  years  he 
had  been  a  respected  and  esteemed  citizen  of  this  city;  a  great 
many  of  the  crowd  were  men  who  when  boys  acquired  their  love 
and  respect  for  him  in  his  honorable  vocation  of  school-teaching. 
The  feeling  in  his  behalf  was  manifest  on  every  side.  He  pre¬ 
sented  a  cool  and  collected  demeanor,  and  looked  any  thing  but 
the  murderer  which  it  was  the  unpleasant  task  of  the  prosecu¬ 
tion  to  undertake  to  prove  him. 

THE  SHOOTING. 

J.  H.  Colles,  a  clerk  at  Dudley,  Nelson  &  Go’s — of  which  firm 
the  deceased  was  junior  partner,  and  in  whose  office  on  Common 
street,  between  twelve  and  one  o’clock  on  the  2Ith  of  March 
last,  he  was  shot — and  Lyman  Dudley,  another  clerk  in  the  same 
house,  gave  the  breif  particulars  of  the  shooting  of  Stone — 
which  was  simply,  that  whilst  he  was  writing  at  his  desk,  Harby 
walked  in,  called  him  by  name,  shot  him  and  walked  away. 

DEATH  OP  STONE. 

Dr.  Thos.  Hunt  testified  as  to  his  waiting  upon  Stone  an  hour 
and  a  half  after  he  was  shot.  The  wound  was  a  very  small  one, 
made  by  a  small  bullet,  near  the  middle  of  the  breast.  Stone 
was  in  great  agony,  saying  he  knew  he  would  die,  and  asked 
witness  to  do  all  he  could  for  him.  Witness  finally  extracted 


60 


the  bullet  from  his  back,  and  after  that  he  experienced  much 
relief.  But  it  was  evident  that  his  lung  and  some  of  the  nerves 
had  been  injured ;  he  continued  to  sink,  and  on  the  morning  of 
the  31st  he  died  in  a  state  of  collapse— died  from  the  effect  of 
the  pistol-shot  wound.  This  was  at  his  room  in  a  boarding¬ 
house  up  Magazine  street,  to  which  he  was  removed  shortly 
after  being  wounded. 

Here  the  state  rested  the  case. 

APPEARANCE  OP  MISS  HARRY — HER  TESTIMONY. 

When  the  name  of  Miss  Harby  was  called  as  the  next  wit¬ 
ness,  there  was  a  general  move  in  the  court,  and  a  tiptoing  of 
those  behind  to  obtain  the  first  glimpse  of  the  lady.  A  few 
minutes  elapsed,  and  the  bolt  of  the  middle  door  shot  back,  and 
Miss  Harby,  closely  veiled,  entered,  leaning  upon  the  arm  of 
Captain  Fremaux.  She  walked  falteringly  up  to  the  witnesses’ 
chair  and  took  her  seat.  At  the  solicitation  of  the  attorney- 
general,  her  heavy  brown  veil  was  raised,  leaving  only  the  black 
lace,  through  which  the  features  were  plainly  discernible.  Her 
face  is  beautiful,  and  the  piercing  black  eyes  fairly  sparkled  as 
she  encountered  the  gaze  of  the  gaping  multitude  of  men  before 
her.  Her  voice  has  that  silvery  tone  which  is  so  calculated  to 
please — neither  too  soft  nor  too  harsh.  She  expressed  herself, 
when  not  agitated,  clearly  and  firmly,  using  the  most  chaste  and 
elegant  language. 

Miss  Harby  sworn :  Is  the  daughter  of  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar.  I  first  met  Charles  H.  C.  Stone  in  June,  1855.  I  met  him 
a  year  before ;  had  no  acquaintance  with  him  then.  He  visited 
my  father’s  house  frequently,  about  five  months  after  his  intro¬ 
duction.  [The  witness  here  placed  her  handkerchief  to  her 
eyes,  and  wept  and  sobbed  violently ;  and  many  in  the  court  and 
jury  wept  also.]  I  became  a  mother  on  the  6th  of  February, 
1858:  C.  H.  C.  Stone  was  the  father.  I  certainly  expected  to 
become  his  wife,  because  he  promised  me  marriage  a  few  weeks 
after  he  became  acquainted  with  me.  My  parents  first  knew  of 
my  situation  in  November ;  was  in  my  bedroom  when  Mr.  Stone 
met  my  father :  heard  my  father  accuse  Mr.  Stone  of  being  my 
seducer;  saw  him  lean  his  head  on  the  mantel-piece  and  remain 


61 


silent;  heard  him  say  that  if  he  would  give  him  until  nine 
o’clock  to-morrow,  he  would  make  every  reparation.  Never  saw 
him  again. 

Questioned  by  the  attorney-general :  Mr.  Stone  is  the  father 
of  my  child;  he  seduced  me  on  the  evening  of  the  24th  of  No¬ 
vember,  1855.  His  intercourse  has  been  habitual  since  he 
seduced  me  in  my  father’s  house;  his  intercourse  was  always 
with  me  at  my  father’s  house,  except  one  occasion  at  his  own 
room,  over  the  store  of  Dudley  &  Nelson ;  on  that  occasion  had 
been  out  with  him  all  the  evening;  and  on  leaving  the  theatre, 
went  to  an  ice-cream  saloon  on  Canal  street,  and  then  went  to 
get  in  the  Magazine  omnibus.  There  had  been  no  intercourse 
between  us  for  several  months  up  to  that  time.  I  asked  him 
not  to  take  me  to  his  room.  He  told  me  to  hush,  and  when 
reaching  the  door  on  Common  street,  he  opened  it  and  pushed 
me  in.  I  always  got  in  home  by  means  of  a  night-key.  I  had 
been  out  with  another  gentleman  with  the  night-key,  but  was 
not  in  the  habit  of  so  doing.  I  had  befen  out  with  Mr.  Morrow 
and  Mr.  Simmons,  and  once  with  Mr.  Colles,  Mr.  Ferguson,  Mr. 
Kitchen  and  Mr.  Allinet.  Only  used  the  night-key  with  Mr. 
Morrow  and  Mr.  Stone.  I  never  was  at  the  Lake  with  any 
gentleman.  I  had  no  acquaintances  on  Circus  street.  I  had 
none  on  Basin  street.  Never  was  on  those  streets  at  night.  No 
other  gentleman  but  Mr.  Stone  ever  took  any  liberty  with  me ; 
Mr.  Raiue  never  took  any  liberties  with  me.  Mr.  Stone  never 
used  force  except  on  the  first  occasion,  but  afterward  used  per¬ 
suasion. 

LETTER  FROM  MISS  HARRY  TO  HER  SEDUCER. 

New  Orleans,  March  24. 

Dear  Charley  :  I  have  written  you,  yet  you  have  never  an¬ 
swered  me ;  still  I  do  not  feel  discouraged,  for  I  cannot  believe 
that  all  the  love  and  devotion  which  you  professed  to  have  had 
for  me,  up  to  the  last  time  that  I  saw  you,  could  have  passed 
away,  and  that  you  could  have  become  so  black-hearted  and 
cruel  as  to  speak  ill  of  me ;  and  what  is  more,  what  I  hear  you 
have  said  of  me  is  false,  and  that  you  know  full  well.  Charley, 
I  cannot  believe  the  half  of  what  I  hear ;  you  loved  me,  Charley ; 
oh,  yes,  you  did !  or  why  would  you  have  cursed  yourself  and 


62 


shed  tears  for  the  injury  you  have  done  me.  If  you  had  married 
me,  I  would  have  made  you  a  faithful  and  devoted  wife.  God 
and  yourself  only  know  how  I  loved  you.  Come  and  see  me ; 
come  and  see  our  boy.  He  is  a  pretty  boy,  and,  oh,  Charley,  he 
is  the  image  of  you.  How  I  love  him  and  you,  his  father.  For 
God’s  sake,  come !  I  feel  that  you  are  not  acting  from  the  im¬ 
pulses  of  your  own  heart ;  do  not  be  actuated  by  the  evil  mo¬ 
tives  of  others.  I  am  always  alone  from  eight  o’clock  in  the 
morning  until  three  in  the  afternoon,  for  papa  has  his  school 
duties  to  attend  to ;  then,  do  come.  I  will  expect  you  in  per¬ 
son,  or  a  letter  from  you,  immediately. 

(Signed)  C. 

While  this  letter  was  being  read.  Miss  Harby  cried  and 
groaned  bitterly.  Other  letters  were  read,  among  them  the  fol¬ 
lowing  : 

LETTER  FROM  MISS  HARBY  TO  THE  BROTHER  OF  HER  SEDUCER, 

St.  Louis,  Mo,,  Dec.  13,  1851. 

Mr.  Joseph  Stone — Dear  Sir:  I  arrived  in  this  large  city 
this  afternoon,  and  according  to  promise  inform  you  of  it,  I  am 
'^s  well  as  can  be  expected  under  the  circumstances  I  labor 
under.  Father  has  taken  board  for  us  in  a  private  boarding¬ 
house  for  a  few  days.  To-morrow  will  be  Monday,  when  he 
intends  to  look  for  employment  in  the  public  schools,  or  do  any 
thing  to  support  his  family.  Should  he  succeed  in  doing  any 
thing,  he  will  hire  a  house,  and  will  live  alone  and  retired.  I 
am  sorry  to  say  that  father  and  mother  are  very  melancholy  and 
silent ;  not  a  word  has  escaped  their  lips  concerning  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  events  which  drove  them  from  a  home,  from  friends,  and 
from  their  support  and  livelihood.  0  God !  how  I  feel  for  them ; 
but  how  dare  I  offer  comfort — I,  who  am  the  cause  of  their 
grief  and  poverty.  I  know  they  sympathize  with  me;  and, 
though  I  am  undeserving,  they  love  me  still.  Oh,  if  Charley 
could  see  their  grief,  and  know  my  love  for  him,  how  his  heart 
would  grieve.  Embrace  your  brother  for  me,  and  say  that  while 
I  live  no  one  but  him  will  possess  my  affections  and  my  true  love. 

Yours,  with  respect  and  regard, 

C.  R.  Harby. 


(Signed) 


63 


ANOTHER  LETTER  FROM  CAROLINE  TO  CHARLES. 

While  this  was  being  read,  Miss  Harby  wept  and  sobbed  ter¬ 
ribly. 

St.  Louis,  Feb.  15,  1858. 

Dear  Charles;  You  will  not  write  to  me,  nor  will  your 
brother  Joseph  keep  his  word  to  write  to  me ;  therefore  I  must 
say  a  few  words  to  you.  You  have  a  son — a  dear,  smart  boy! 
You  will  not  desert  your  child;  you  will  not  bring  such  guilt 
and  horror  upon  your  soul.  Oh,  write  me  immediately  upon  the 
receipt  of  this.  If  you  have  any  heart,  any  love,  any  feeling — 
write  to  me  1  Do  not  keep  me  in  suspense !  Oh,  how  I  love 
my  sweet  boy  I — my  other  dear  Charles !  And  do  you  suppose 
I  do  not  love  you,  the  father  of  my  child  ?  I  know  you  have  a 
good  heart.  Do  not  oppose  the  virtuous  dictates  of  your  con¬ 
science,  but  answer  me  at  once. 

Your  faithful,  loving 

(Signed)  Caroline. 

The  state  called  several  witnesses,  who  testified  that  they  had 
seen  Miss  Harby  behave  in  an  immodest  manner,  and  two  or 
three  of  them  asserted  that  they  had  had  sexual  intercourse  with 
her.  One  stated  that  he  had  frequently  had  intercourse  with 
her,  and  that  she  once  told  him  that  she  was  endente,  and  he  the 
father. 

A  STARTLING  SCENE. 

Miss  Harby,  after  this  style  of  evidence  had  been  closed,  was 
recalled,  and  the  scene  is  thus  related  by  the  Delta : 

“  She  was  escorted  in  by  Mr.  Demarest,  and  up  to  the  witness 
stand.  She  mounted  the  steps  firmly,  and  instead  of  seating 
herself,  stood  up,  raised  her  right  hand,  and  in  a  clear,  loud 
voice,  which  fell  with  electric  force  upon  the  breathless  assem¬ 
blage,  said: 

“  ‘  Before  Almighty  God,  and  by  all  my  hopes  hereafter,  I  do 
solemnly  swear  that  what  those  men  have  sworn  about  me  is 
false — FALSE — FALSE  !  [stamping  her  foot].  Ip  ten  thou¬ 
sand  LIVES  depended  ON  IT,  IT,  IS  ALL  FALSE  !  I  don’t  see 
how  any  men  could  come,  here  and  talk  that  way  about  me  be¬ 
fore  my  lather,  and” — 


64 

“  Here  she  fell  in  the  chair  and  gave  way  to  a  hysterical  fit  of 
weeping  and  sobbing.  The  court  was  fairly  stunned  by  her 
vehemence,  and  the  dramatic  force  of  the  scene.” 

CASE  CLOSED. 

The  case  was  here  closed  and  submitted  without  argument. 
After  the  charge  of  the  judge,  the  jury  retired  at  about  half-past 
five.  In  about  fifteen  minutes  they  returned  and  wished  to  be 
charged  upon  certain  points,  or  rather,  whether  if  the  accused 
had  committed  murder,  could  any  circumstances  palliate  it. 
After  some  delay  the  court  again  charged  them,  and  they  re¬ 
tired. 

THE  VERDICT  BY  THE  JURY  AND  THE  POPULACE. 

They  returned  almost  immediately  into  court,  and  upon  an¬ 
swering  to  their  names,  they  rendered  a  verdict  of  “  Not  guilty.” 

The  crowd  in  the  court-room,  which  was  now  densely  packed, 
burst  forth  into  one  roar  of  approbation,  and  rushed  toward  the 
prisoner  to  congratulate  him.  In  vain  did  the  deputy  sheriffs 
call  order  and  rush  in  among  the  crowd ;  but  it  was  not  until 
Mr.  Durant,  standing  upon  a  chair,  asked,  for  the  sake  of  Mr. 
Harby,  to  keep  quiet,  that  a  little  order  was  established.  After 
Mr.  Harby  was  duly  discharged,  the  crowd  rushed  out  to  see 
him.  He  was  taken  into  the  clerk’s  office,  and  after  the  crowd 
had  rushed  into  St.  Anne  street,  he  was  led  quietly  out  and 
placed  in  a  carriage  and  driven  off.  As  he  passed  down  St. 
Anne  street,  the  crowd  greeted  him  with  shouts.  The  old  gentle¬ 
man  waved  his  hat.  The  daughter,  who  had  been  remaining  in 
an  outer  office  during  the  whole  trial,  was  taken  away  in  a  car¬ 
riage  by  some  friends. 

No  man  of  heart  and  judgment  can  peruse  the  letters  of  Miss 
Harby  to  her  betrayer,  and  not  feel  that  she  was  a  sincere,  noble- 
hearted  woman,  and  pure  to  all  the  world  except  the  man  who 
had  promised  to  make  her  his  legal  wife.  The  perjured  villains 
who  strove  to  brand  her  with  unmerited  infamy,  had  doubtless 
committed  themselves  to  their  line  of  testimony  long  before  the 
shooting  of  Stone ;  and  quite  likely  some  of  them  feared  that 
the  avenging  hand  of  some  other  outraged  parent  might  light 
upon  their  persons,  should  Harby  not’ be  convicted. 


66 


But,  fortunately,  the  decision  of  the  case  was  in  higher  hands  ; 
the  jury  acquitted  him,  and  the  public  endorsed  their  verdict — 
“  Vox  popvli  vox  DeV' 

The  above  account  is  given  in  detail,  in  order  to  show  just 
what  any  deceived  woman  will  have  to  encounter,  who  shall 
be  so  unwise  as  to  carry  her  suit  into  a  court  of  justice;  and  not 
only  the  plaintiff  herself)  but  also  any  female  witness,  however 
respectable,  who  may  either  willingly  or  by  compulsion  pre¬ 
sent  testimony  in  her  favor.* 

Where  so  little  is  to  be  expected  from  courts  of  justice,  it  is 
not  strange  that  husbands  and  fathers  should  take  the  law  into 
their  own  hands,  or  that  victims  should  revenge  themselves  upon 
their  seducers,  or  that  the  public  sympathy  should  almost  invari¬ 
ably  be  with  the  avengers,  since  the  course  pursued  is  proof  pos¬ 
itive  that  a  serious  injury  has  been  done.  It  is  not  so,  however, 
when  a  case  of  seduction  is  taken  into  court ;  for  here  there  is  a 
chance  for  conspiracy,  and  the  public  at  once  begin  to  question 
the  motives  of  the  prosecutors ;  the  real  object  may  be  to  black- 

♦  Treatment  of  Witnesses. — “  It  appeared  that  the  plaintiff;  who  was  a 
very  respectable  lady,  had  boarded  and  lodged  the  defendant’s  wife  for 
several  weeks  during  the  period  of  that  lady’s  illness,  caused,  as  sug¬ 
gested  by  counsel,  by  the  conduct  of  the  defendant.  She  had  also  supplied 
her  with  a  few  necessary  articles  of  dress. 

The  plaintiff  having  been  examined  in  chiei; 

The  defendant,  in  cross-examining  her,  said :  Did  you  take  her  in  for 
an  immoral  purpose  ?  (Suppressed  laughter). 

"Witness  (indignantly). — I  took  your  wife  in  as  a  gentlewoman  in  distress. 
I  am  a  gentlewoman  myseli;  and  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  to  ask  such  a 
question. 

Mr.  Baron  Bramwell. — The  lady  has  a  right  ro  resent  such  a  question  as 
that. 

Witness. — She  never  saw  gentlemen  at  my  house.  She  did  not  drink 
hard.  She  was  not  a  teetotaller,  but  she  never  adopted  the  example  set 
her  by  the  man  whoso  case  you  are  now  so  meanly  pleading. 

Mr.  Baron  Bramwell  (to  the  defendant). — I  don’t  know  whether  you 
have  any  foundation  for  these  questions ;  but  if  not,  I  must  say  that  they 
are  most  disgraceful.  No  person,  be  he  counsel  or  not,  has  a  right  to  put 
such  questions  unless  he  be  satisfied  in  his  own  mind  that  he  has  some 
foundation  for  them.” — London  Times. 

The  rebuke  of  the  learned  English  judge  should  find  an  echo  in  this 
country,  where  too  much  license  is  allowed  by  the  court  to  members  of 
the  bar,  in  their  attempts  to  badger  and  confuse  a  witness. 


66 


mail  the  accused,  to  recover  heavy  damages  where  no  serious 
ofifence  has  been  committed,  or  compel  the  defendant  to  many  a 
woman  who  has  sinned  with  other  men — men  equally  guilty, 
hough  not  so  well-to-do  as  himself.*  But  when  a  deceived 
woman,  or  her  near-kin,  strike  down  a  libertine,  and  thus,  while 
scorning  to  appeal  to  the  law,  place  themselves  within  the  pale 
of  it,  the  very  desperation  of  the  act  proves  unmistakably  that 
a  great  wrong  has  been  committed,  and  the  public  mind  at  once 
leaps  to  a  just  appreciation  of  the  case. 

But  however  much  the  systematic  seducer  may  merit  death, 
what  human  heart  does  not  shrink  from  the  idea  of  so  dread  and 
(in  these  cases)  sudden  a  punishment  being  inflicted  upon  him  ? 
To  be  sure,  he  has  no  feeling  for  his  victim,  and  often  sets  about 
his  nefarious  task  with  all  the  coolness  of  a  regular  assassin ;  but 
as  the  law  grants  even  the  deliberate  murderer  time  for  repent¬ 
ance,  perhaps  even  the  libertine  has  some  claim  to  similar  favor ; 
at  all  events,  some  infliction  short  of  taking  life,  some  punish¬ 
ment  which  shall  disgrace  the  systematic  seducer,  which  shall 
isolate  him  in  a  measure  from  society,  and,  as  it  were,  tie  his 
hands  from  the  commission  of  further  evil,  is  a  better  method  of 
dealing  with  such  offenders. 

Instances  of  retribution,  which  were  designedly  of  this  char¬ 
acter,  might  be  furnished  by  the  score,  but  they  are  too  barbarous 
to  be  imitated  and  too  suggestive  to  be  made  public ;  but  as  in 
two  of  these  the  punishment  was  unmistakably  just,  and  of  the 
only  character  that  would  meet  the  particular  cases,  and  the 
publicity  may  serve  to  warn  thoughtless  young  men  of  what 
they  are  liable  to  encounter  should  they  ever  seriously  enter  upon 
the  libertine’s  career,  the  facts  will  be  presented. 

A  once  worthy  and  really  excellent  woman,  who,  through  the 
combined  application  of  opiates  and  force,  had  been  dishonored 
and  disgraced,  passed  step  by  step  down  the  declivity  of  ruin 
until  she  became  the  keeper  of  a  house  of  ill-fame.  Fallen  as 
she  had  become,  she  still  had  a  just  appreciation  of  virtue,  and 

*  Under  the  laws  of  the  state  of  New  Tork,  the  seducer  has  presented 
him  the  alternative  of  marrying  his  victim  or  being  sent  to  prison,  and 
not  unfrequently  he  accepts  the  fii'st  condition  to  save  himself  from  the 
confinement  of  stone  walls. 


67 


was  not  only  horror-struck,  but  enraged  beyond  endurance,  when 
a  wealthy  libertine  came  to  her  house  and  offered  her  a  large 
sum  of  money  if-  she  would  induce  a  younger  sister  of  hers,  then 
living  every  way  respectably  with  her  mother,  to  place  herself 
at  his  disposal.  “  Villain, ”  she  exclaimed,  “I  keep  this  house 
for  the  accommodation  of  unfortunates  who,  like  myself,  have 
been  forced  by  the  heartless  devices  of  your  sex  to  disreput¬ 
able  means  of  existence;  no  innocent  girl  has  ever  been  dis¬ 
honored  under  my  roof,  or  eyer  shall  be.  With  you  to  purpose 
is  almost  to  accomplish ;  my  young  sister  is  now  good  and  pure ; 
approach  her  in  any  way,  and  I  will  make  such  an  example  of 
you  that  you  will  be  glad  to  change  places  with  even  me,  the 
vilest  of  my  kind  !” 

The  roue  was  at  first  confounded  by  this  sudden  outbreak  of 
feeling,  but  viewing  it  as  a  mere  burst  of  passion,  a  feeble  flick¬ 
ering  of  former  virtuous  sentiment,  he  shortly  after  had  the 
temerity  to  repeat  his  offer,  adding  that  he  had  already  managed 
to  secure  a  respectable  introduction  to  the  young  lady,  and  there¬ 
fore  it  was  now  of  but  little  use  to  contend  with  him. 

The  poor  woman  was  startled,  and  at  first  very  much  affected, 
at  finding  this  serpent  had  made  his  first  advance  toward  her 
relative’s  ruin ;  but  recovering  herself,  she  at  last  seemed  to  ac¬ 
quiesce  in  her  sister’s  fate,  and  begged  her  visitor  to  share  with 
her  a  bottle  of  wine,  as  she  wished  to  quiet  her  disturbed  feel¬ 
ings  :  to  this  he  assented,  and  she  plied  the  villain  so  liberally 
with  her  choicest  champagne,  that  he  soon  became  thoroughly 
helpless  from  intoxication,  when  she  took  her  shears,  and  lopping 
off  a  portion  of  his  ears,  secretly  despatched  the  same  along  with 
an  explanatory  note  to  her  mother. 

Ashamed  of  his  loss,  not  daring  to  appeal  to  the  law,  or  even 
to  avenge  himself  for  fear  of  exposure,  the  baffled,  and  now 
thoroughly  humbled  villain  confined  himself  to  his  room  until 
his  locks  overgrew  his  shame,  and  then  quit  his  native  state,  and 
now  lives  and  wanders  in  constant  dread  that  a  sudden  gust  of 
wind  or  some  untoward  accident  will  expose  his  calamity,  and 
he  be  viewed  as  an  escaped  convict,  or  the  recipient  of  some 
secret  and  most  disgraceful  punishment. 

The  other  instance  of  severe  retribution  referred  to,  did  not 


68 


occur  in  this  country,  but  is  given  here,  because  its  details  will 
not  cause  pain  to  the  relatives  of  the  principal  actors,  as  would 
those  of  a  similar  case  nearer  home,  which  could  be  presented ; 
and  also  because  it  shows  the  artful  manner  in  which  women  are 
drawn  into  the  toils  of  the  destroyer.  The  account  is  copied 
mainly  from  an  English  work. 

Col.  Helene  was  a  simple-hearted  but  high-spirited  officer  in 
the  British  army,  and  when  he  was  ordered  with  his  regiment  to 
India,  he  left  behind  him  a  young  wife  and  two  lovely  children. 
Mrs.  Helene  was  a  very  beautifnl  and  attractive  woman,  and,  un¬ 
til  some  time  after  her  husband’s  absence,  a  most  exemplary 
wife  and  mother,  as  was  indicated  by  the  fact  that,  directly  after 
her  husband  sailed,  she  retired  to  a  country  seat  a  short  distance 
from  London,  out  of  deference  to  her  unprotected  position,  and 
with  a  desire  to  devote  herself  to  her  children. 

Annesly  was  Mrs.  Helene’s  name  before  she  was  married, 
and  unfortunately,  though  sincerely  devoted  to  Col.  Helene,  he 
was  not  her  first  love.  Some  two  years  before  she  met  with 
him,  and  while  she  was  besieged  with  suitors,  she  made  the  ac¬ 
quaintance  of  Capt.  Alverly,  a  man  whose  fascinating  appearance 
and  manners  soon  distanced  the  pretensions  of  all  those  who 
aimed  at  an  object  he  had  selected.  Alverly  was,  when  he 
choose,  irresistible ;  he  could  inspire  the  woman  he  sought  with 
the  idea  that  he  loved  her  passionately ;  throwing  a  fervor  and 
devotion  into  his  manner  which  few,  very  few  women,  and  no 
young,  inexperienced  woman,  could  resist.  Poor  Miss  Annesly 
fancied  that  this  prize  was  hers,  but  the  distinguished  Alverly 
disappeared  from  among  the  throng  of  her  admirers,  quite  sud¬ 
denly,  he  having  discovered  that  she  was  not  to  come  into  pos¬ 
session  of  some  expected  property.  She  felt  quite  indignant  at 
his  desertion  for  such  a  cause,  and  her  grief  and  mortification 
were  but  little  assuaged — however,  perhaps,  her  pride  might  be 
soothed — by  the  intimation  Alverly  contrived,  for  an  ulterior 
purpose,  to  carry  to  her,  that  her  regrets  fell  infinitely  short  of 
the  poignancy  of  his  own,  in  being  compelled  by  others  upon 
whom  his  all  depended,  to  abandon  the  dearest  hopes  he  had 
ever  cherished. 

Some  months  after  the  departure  of  her  husband,  Mrs.  Helene 


69 


went  up  to  London,  and  took  a  carriage  to  the  Horse  Guards,  in 
order  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  the  duration  of  her  husband’s  stay 
in  India.  She  sent  in  her  card  to  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  whose 
reply  came  by  the  hand  of  an  officer,  and  that  officer  was  Alver- 
ly.  The  meeting  was  one  of  embarrassment  on  the  part  of  both, 
it  being  their  first  since  Mrs.  Helene  was  married.  Alverly  was 
dressed  in  a  splendid  uniform,  which  set  off  his  handsome  person 
to  the  greatest  advantage,  and  was  as  much  struck  with  the 
fine  personal  appearance  of  his  old  love  as  she  was  by  his  own. 
Their  meeting  was  short,  but  the  glances  he  gave  her  revived  so 
much  of  her  past  feelings,  that  when  her  carriage  turned  to  leave, 
such  was  her  womanly  instinct  of  danger  that  she  heartily  wish¬ 
ed  she  had  remained  at  home. 

Alverly  saw  his  advantage,  and  determined  to  profit  by  it; 
and  some  months  after,  a  packet  having  arrived  at  the  Horse 
Guards  from  India,  enclosing  a  letter  which  the  writer,  Col. 
Helene,  begged  might  be  thrown  into  the  post  for  Mrs.  Helene, 
Alverly  took  it  in  charge,  and  rode  out  that  very  afternoon  to 
Mrs.  Helene’s  residence,  and  delivered  it  with  his  own  hands 
into  those  of  the  servant — “  with  Capt.  Alverly’s  compliments” 
— and  then  rode  offi  He  justly  considered  that  his  delicacy  in 
doing  so  would  be  appreciated,  and  that  she  would  feel  piqued 
that  he  had  not  called  upon  her,  although  all  the  time  conscious 
that  it  was  best  he  should  not. 

Had  Mrs.  Helene  then  closely  and  faithfully  examined  her 
own  heart,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  exact  nature  of  her  feelings, 
on  finding  that  Capt.  Alverly  had  himself  brought  her  a  letter, 
with  the  immediate  receipt  of  which  he  supposed  she  would  be  so 
much  gratified,  and  that  he  had  abstained  from  personally  de¬ 
livering  it:  had  she  done  this^  her  terror-stricken  eye  might 
have  detected  the  serpent,  dim-glistening  in  dreadful  beauty, 
beneath  the  concealing  foliage — and  her  sudden  shudder  would 
have  been  her  salvation ;  but  she  did  not — she  could  not.  Hot 
hers  was  the  salutary  habit  or  the  power  of  self-examination. 
She  wa.s  fatally  remiss  in  guarding  the  “  approaches  of  her  heart” 
0,  unhappy  woman !  why  was  it  that  when  you  beheld  Capt 
Alverly  approaching  to  bring  you  the  intelligence  of  your  hus¬ 
band’s  triumphs,  you  trembled  ?  Why  was  that  faint  flutter  at 


70 


your  heart  ?  What  feelings  fluttered  through  your  bosom  when, 
leaning  against  the  window,  you  followed  his  retiring  figure? 
Ought  not  the  conscious  difference  with  which  you  regarded 
him,  and  any  other  man  you  saw  around  you,  to  have  sounded 
the  alarm,  in  your  husband’s  name,  in  every  chamber  of  your 
heart  ? 

In  this,  his  second  move,  Alverly  had  carried  a  great  point ;  he 
had  made  his  purposed  victim  give  him  credit  for  honesty  and 
delicacy  he  did  not  possess ;  he  complimented  her  by  leading 
her  to  suppose  that  he  felt  it  was  dangerous  for  him  to  trust 
himself  in  her  presence,  and  so  not  only  caused  her  to  think 
of  him  often,  but  to  think  of  him  with  respect  and  gratitude.  The 
result  was  that  after  one  or  two  further  calls,  upon  the  same  mis¬ 
sion,  on  which  occasions  he  did  not  hasten  away,  Mrs.  Helene 
became  discontented  with  her  retired  life,  and  came  up  to  Lon¬ 
don  on  a  visit  to  a  relative.  Ill-fated  woman,  dare  you  avow  to 
Heaven  the  gratification  with  which  you  found  yourself  becom¬ 
ing  intimate  with  Alverly’s  distinguished  family  ?  Alas  1  did 
you  not  feel  a  secret  satisfaction  at  finding  yourself  sitting  at 
Lord  D — ’s  dinner  table  with  Capt.  Alverly  beside  you  ?  Were 
you  delighted  or  startled  at  the  ardent  gaze  with  which  he  re¬ 
garded  you  ?  Did  you  not  observe  and  tremblingly  appreciate 
the  tact  with  which  attentions  exquisitely  flattering  and  gratify¬ 
ing  to  you^  were  concealed  from  all  others?  Did  a  sense  of 
security  from  observation  begin  to  evince  itself  when  you  per¬ 
ceived  the  skill  with  which  his  infernal  movements  were  di¬ 
rected  ? 

Of  course,  the  end  of  all  this  was  Mrs.  Helene’s  fall.  Hearing 
that  her  husband  was  on  his  way  from  India,  and  was  to  be  ex¬ 
pected  daily,  and  having  gone  so  far  in  evil  that  she  dare  not 
look  him  again  in  the  face,  she  eloped  with  Alverly,  leaving  her 
children  behind  her.  It  is  not  possible  to  describe  the  feelings 
of  her  unfortunate  husband,  when  he  found  his  home  desolate, 
his  wife  dishonored,  and  his  children  disgraced :  he  fell  to  the 
floor  in  a  violent  fit  of  apoplexy.  From  the  effects  of  this  he 
slowly  recovered  after  several  weeks  of  dangerous  illness,  which 
left  him  almost  a  skeleton.  A  fine,  muscular  man  when  he 
reached  home,  he  now  looked  as  if  in  the  last  stages  of  decline. 


71 


He  would  sit  alone  and  speechless  for  hours.  His  only  employ¬ 
ment  seemed  to  be  to  practise  with  the  pistol,  as  though  pro¬ 
ficiency  with  this  weapon,  for  some  especial  end,  was  now  the 
great  object  of  his  life. 

And  lie  had  one  special  object  in  view,  and  that  was,  to  inflict 
upon  the  handsome  Capt.  Alverly  a  punishment  worse  than 
death.  That  scoundrel  had  lately  come  into  possession  of  an 
immense  fortune,  and  along  with  it  inherited  the  title  of  a  Lord, 
and  was  shortly  expecting  to  lead  to  the  altar  a  young  lady  of 
the  highest  rank.  With  youth,  health,  wealth,  and  station  be¬ 
fore  him,  he  had  every  reason  to  desire  to  live  and  enjoy  the 
world,  and  his  heart  sank  within  him,  and  he  cursed  himself,  his 
victim,  and  all  the  world,  when  a  challenge  from  Col.  Helene  was 
handed  to  him,  and  he  found  he  must  place  his  life  in  jeopardy ;  but  * 
there  was  no  retreat — fight  he  must— and  he  met  the  man  he  had 
so  foully  wronged,  who,  at  the  second  fire,  and  by  means  of  his 
long  practice,  directed  his  bullet  to  the  head  of  his  antagonist  in 
such  a  manner  that,  while  it  would  not  kill  the  villain,  should  yet 
disfigure  forever  the  face  the  handsome  scoundrel  so  much  prized. 
Alverly’s  nose  and  a  portion  of  one  cheek  were  shot  away,  and  so 
frightful  was  his  appearance  that,  when  he  had  recovered  from 
this  wound,  and  managed  to  escape  from  his  attendants,  and 
stood  before  the  mirror,  the  thought  of  continuing  to  live  so 
marked,  and  so  disgraced,  was  unendurable ;  he  felt,  like  Cain, 
that  his  punishment  was  greater  than  he  could  bear ;  and  seizing 
his  pistols,  he  speedily  put  an  end  to  his  existence.  What 
this  miserable  man  suffered  during  the  brief  time  he  stood  before 
that  glass,  probably  counterbalanced  all  the  pleasure  of  his 
whole  life.  As  to  Col.  Helene,  when  assured  that  his  object  had 
been  effected,  he  fell  upon  the  field,  in  a  second  fit  of  apoplexy, 
from  which  he  never  recovered;  while  his  poor,  unfortunate  wife 
ended  her  days  in  a  mad-house. 

Terrible  as  was  this  instance  of  retribution,  a  score  of  such 
would  not,  even  if  enacted  before  their  sight,  deter  some  de¬ 
bauchees  from  pursuing  their  destructive  course.  The  habit  of 
preying  upon  the  weaker  sex  becomes  with  them  a  passion  as 
insatiable  as  that  of  the  gambler  or  drunkard — a  craving  which 


12 


nothing  but  death  will  eradicate ;  while,  like  Locke,  they  relish 
only  “an  intrigue  which  has  a  spice  of  danger  in  it.” 

What  shall  be  done  with  such  men?  How  shall  society  pro¬ 
tect  itself  against  them  ?  Manifestly,  by  casting  them  out  of 
its  pale — or  at  least  out  of  the  pale  of  all  decent  female  society. 
Social  circles  that  fail  to  repel  these  men  for  their  misdeeds, 
should  be  made  to  do  so  through  fear  of  being  ranked  on  a  par 
with  them.  Why  should  the  woman  who  associates  with  a 
known  libertine  be  held  in  higher  esteem  than  she  who  as¬ 
sociates  with  a  courtezan  ?  Is  her  virtue  in  less  danger  of  being 
undermined  in  the  one  case  than  the  other  ? 

Fathers !  you  would  not  permit  your  sons  to  keep  the  com¬ 
pany  of  a  known  thief  or  professional  gambler,  and  will  you  trust 
your  daughter  to  the  companionship  of  a  debauchee  ?  Brothers  I 
— too  many  of  you  know  what  woman’s  weakness  is — will  not 
love  for  your  sister,  or  respect  for  your  mother,  prevent  your  in¬ 
troducing  a  libertine  to  your  home  ?  Mothers  1  is  your  daughter 
so  superior  to  all  “  the  daughters  of  men,”  that  she  cannot  be 
placed  in  danger  ?  and  will  you,  for  the  sake  of  a  splendid  match, 
and  under  the  silly  belief  that  “  a  reformed  rake  makes  the  best 
husband,”  hazard  your  child’s  peace  by  bringing  her  in  contact 
with  “  the  destroyer  ?”  Woman!  every  honest  female  has  a  regard 
for  her  reputation  ;  of  the  one  who  is  careless  of  this,  it  may  bo 
safely  said  that  she  is  in  a  fair  way  to  be  without  any.  Pardon 
the  comparison — you  cannot  play  with  soot  without  getting 
crocked,  and  a  reputation  once  soiled,  is  generally  tarnished  for¬ 
ever.  Marrying  men!  Some  “deceived”  women  have  made  the 
best  of  wives,  but  their  “  indiscretion  ”  was  a  matter  understood 
and  settled  before  marriage — as  you  value  your  future  peace,  look 
well  into  the  character  of  the  men  your  proposed  wife  has  been  inti¬ 
mate  with. 


HENRY  WILLIAM  HERBERT. 
(fbank  forester.) 


TEICKS  AND  TRAPS 


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INTRODUCTION. 


In  our  series  of  “  Tricks  and  Traps,”  we  had  designed, 
from  the  first,  to  devote  one  hook,  at  least,  to  “Horse- 
Dealers;”  the  horse  trade  being  a  subject  of  much  interest 
to  the  public,  both  on  account  of  the  immense  sum  which 
yearly  changes  hands  through  it,  and  to  the  facilities  it 
alffbrds  for  cheating. 

As  the  person  who,  above  all  others,  was  best  fitted  to 
do  the  matter  full  justice,  application  was  made  to  “Frank 
Forester.”  What  we  now  present  is  the  result;  the  work 
was  not  completed — his  decease  prevented  that ;  and  still  it 
has  been  decided  to  issue  what  Mr.  Herbert  did  write,  for 
the  following  reasons:  its  merit;  the  possession  of  other 
matter  of  his,  from  which  the  remainder  of  the  book  can 
readily  be  compiled;  and  the  fact  that  this  was  the  last 
literary  worh  he  employed  himself  upon. 

The  likeness  of  “Frank  Forester”  forming  the  frontis¬ 
piece  of  this  book,  we  consider  the  best  extant ;  and  con¬ 
ceive  a  portion  of  these  pages  cannot  be  better  devoted 
than  to  a  glance  at  the  life  of  the  author,  who  very 
justly  says  of  his  own  works :  “  I  have  taught,  I  have 
inculcated,  I  have  put  forth  nothing  which  I  did  believe  to 
be  false  or  evil,  or  any  thing  which  I  did  not  believe  to  be 
good  and  true.  In  all  my  writings,  I  have  no  line  of  which 
I  am  ashamed,  no  word  which  I  desire  to  blot.” 


yi 

The  personal  and  literary  character  of  Henry  William 
Herbert  were  entirely  disconnected,  and  they  must  he  con¬ 
sidered  separately.  The  one  was  a  series  of  splendid  suc¬ 
cesses,  extending  over  a  considerable  number  of  years ;  as 
the  other  was  a  constant  succession  of  painful  mistakes  and 
infirmities,  crowned,  at  last,  by  the  most  fatal  of  all. 

He  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  Hon.  and  Kev.  William  Her¬ 
bert,  Dean  of  Manchester,  second  son  of  the  second  Earl  of 
Carnaervon,  a  member  of  the  younger  branch  of  the  Earl¬ 
dom  of  Pembroke.  His  mother  was  the  Hon.  Letitia  Allen, 
second  daughter  of  Viscount  Allen,  of  Kildare,  Ireland,  a 
branch  of  the  family  of  Leinster. 

Mr.  Herbert  was  born  in  London  on  the  7th  of  April, 
1807,  was  first  educated  at  home  under  a  private  tutor ; 
afterward  at  Dr.  Hooker’s,  Brighton ;  then  at  Eton ;  and 
graduated  at  Cambridge  in  the  winter  of  1829-30. 

In  November,  1831,  he  came  to  America,  and  has  ever 
since  resided  here.  His  time  has  been  almost  wholly  spent 
— when  not  engaged  in  sporting  excursions — in  this  city 
and  at  his  residence,  “The  Cedars,”  near  Kewark,  Kew 
Jersey. 

Henry  William  Herbert  has  long  been  before  the  public 
under  the  popular  title  of  “  Frank  Forester.”  He  was 
among  the  most  voluminous  writers  of  the  day,  and  among 
the  most  successful  as  well.  His  published  works,  properly 
gathered,  would  probably  make  fifty  or  sixty  volumes. 

His  classical  attainments  would  have  done  honor  to  a 
man  wholly  devoted  to  that  department ;  while  his  knowl¬ 
edge  of  history  and  natural  science  was  accurate  and  pro¬ 
found,  Many  of  his  works  of  fiction  had  a  wide  circulation. 
But  his  treatises  and  articles  on  sporting  matters,  many  of 


trhich  appeared  in  “  Porter’s -Spirit  of  the  Times,”  “Turf 
Register,”  &c.,  gave  him  his  principal  reputation,  his  im¬ 
mense  experience  gained  by  every  variety  of  sporting  over 
all  the  fields  and  waters  of  N’orthern  America  eminently 
fitting  him  for  this  line  of  authorship ;  and  we  think  he  has 
had  an  excellent  influence  upon  the  young  men  of  this 
country,  by  exciting  in  them  a  love  of  the  manly  sports 
which  do  so  much,  not  only  for  the  physical  development 
of  a  people,  but  for  their  habits  of  natural  observation  and 
their  enjoyment  of  simple  and  healthful  pleasures. 

His  last  work  on  “The  Horse  and  Horsemanship  of  Ame¬ 
rica”  attests  to  his  research  and  ability  as  a  writer,  and 
will  also,  we  have  no  doubt,  prove  to  be  of  much  useful¬ 
ness. 

Of  the  causes  which  led  so  bright  a  man  to  an  ignomin¬ 
ious  death  by  his  own  hand,  we  care  not  to  enter  upon ;  on 
this  point,  he  implores  of  the  press — silence — and  that  ap¬ 
peal  we  respect. 


CHAPTER  I. 


INTRODUCTORY. 

It  has  been  wisely  and  pertinently  remarked  by  an  English 
novelist,  of  high  modern  reputation,  who  may  be  held  to  be  an 
authority  on  the  subject,  from  his  long-familiar  intimacy  with  the 
never-sufficiently-to-be-admired  “^two  horsemen,”  that,  “although 
in  his  whole  nature  and  character  there  is  not  an  lionester  animal 
in  the  world  than  a  horse,  yet  there  must  be  something,  assuredly, 
in  an  habitual  intercourse  with  him,  which  is  very  detrimental  to 
honesty  in  others ;  for  certainly,  and  I  believe  in  all  ages  it  has 
been  so,  there  cannot  be  conceived  a  race  of  more  arrant  cheats 
and  swindlers  than  the  whole  set  of  jockeys,  grooms,  and  horse- 
dealers.” 

Why  this  should  be  the  case,  it  would  be  difficult  to  explain ; 
but  I  fear  that,  in  a  great  degree,  it  is  true,  and  that  its  truth 
holds  good  to  the  present  day,  and  no  less  in  relation  to  these 
moral  and  model  States  of  the  great  Atlantic  republic,  than  to  the 
most  benighted  province,  colony,  or  kingdom  of  the  Old  World, 
whether  civilized,  semi-barbarous,  or  savage. 

The  Arabs,  in  the  desert, — the  black  Mandingoes  and  Felatahs, 
in  Soudan  and  Nigritia, — the  Shoshonees,  the  Blackfeet,  and  the 
Arapahoes,  on  our  own  plains  and  mountains  of  the  West, — are 
no  less  expert,  nay,  according  to  some  adventurous  explorers,  are 
ten  times  more  expert,  as  horse-thieves,  horse-doctors,  horse- 
tamers,  horse-swappers,  and  horse-sellers,  than  the  ’cutest  York- 
shireman  that  ever  came  out  of  the  vale  of  Pickering,  or  the  cun- 
ningest  Yankee,  that,  green  as  he  may  appear  to  city  swells,  is 
sure  to  turn  out  too  much  for  the  best  of  them,  in  a  hard  bargain, 
where  horse-flesh  is  concerned;  while,  at  the  same  time,  half 


8 


the  proudest  peers  in  England,  and  highest-reaching  gentlemen 
everywhere,  would  endure  with  far  more  complacency — if  not, 
even,  with  a  little  quiet  exultation — the  charge  of  having  got  a 
trifle  to  the  windward  of  a  sporting  customer,  in  a  deal,  or  stuck 
a  screw  into  a  flat,  than  he  would  tolerate  the  imputation  of  hav¬ 
ing  been  victimized,  or  done  brown,  by  a  hard-riding  farmer,  or, 
still  worse,  a  fashionable  dealer. 

It  is  an  anomaly,  certainly,  that  it  should  be,  generally,  con¬ 
sidered  more  creditable  to  be  the  cheater  than  the  cheatee,  and 
it  is  not  the  case  in  any  other  kind  of  business,  of  which  I  have 
ever  heard ;  but  in  horse-dealing  it  is  so,  beyond  a  peradventure. 
Who,  for  instance,  ever  heard  tell,  even,  of  a  stock -broker,  who, 
in  the  common  acceptance,  is  the  least  scrupulous  of  men  as  to 
the  niceties  of  honor  and  the  fine  distinctions  between  meum  et 
tuum^  boasting  publicly  in  the  street,  and  taking  to  himself  extra¬ 
ordinary  credit,  for  having  sold  to  some  too-confiding  juvenal  the 
stock  of  some  banking,  or  gutta-percha-makm^^  or  morus-rrmlti- 
cawZ^s-growing  company,  which  had  been  for  years  in  a  condition 
of  chronic  collapse,  on  his  own  especial  recommendation  ? 

Who  ever  heard  tell  of  the  most  enterprising  and  least  particu¬ 
lar,  as  to  the  means  of  making  money,  so  money  is  made,  among 
our  steamboat  commodores^  as  it  is  the  fashion  in  some  quarters 
to  designate  them,  avowing  it  openly,  and  claiming  it  as  a  feather 
in  his  cap,  that  he  has  sold  a  floating  coffin,  in  the  shape  of 
a  worn-out  sixteen-times-revamped  steam-tug,  newly  cl^ristened, 
newly  furnished,  and  as  ship-shape  as  paint  and  varnish  can  make 
her,  to  a  company  of  California  emigrants,  well  knowing  that, 
being  minus  half  a  boiler,  or  sprung  in  her  walking-beam,  or  in 
other  ways  utterly  unseaworthy,  she  is  all  but  morally  certain  to 
go  to  the  bottom,  the  first  gale  she  may  chance  to  encounter  ? 

Every  one  has  heard  of  both  the  Wall-street  broker  and  the 
steamboat  commodore  doing  the  thing  repeatedly — doing  the  thing, 
in  fact,  whenever  he  gets  a  chance  to  do  it ;  doing  it  con  amore, 
and  chuckling  over  it,  when  done,  in  his  own  secret  soul,  as  a 
smart  thing,  to  be  repeated  just  so  often  as  it  can  be  repeated, 
without  detection  or  prosecution ;  but  no  mortal  ever  heard  either 
bragging  of  it,  or  supposing  that  he  should  gain  eclat  or  good 
report  by  its  publicity. 


9 


Yet  who,  on  the  other  hand,  was  ever  present  at  a  gay  con¬ 
vivial  meeting  of  young  men,  fast  young  men,  rejoicing  in  the 
fastness  of  every  thing,  and  valuing  all  things,  from  a  horse  to  a 
girl,  solely  in  reference  to  that  quality  of  fastness^  without  hearing 
each  and  all  of  them  brag  over  his  brandy  and  water  and  cigar, 
how  cleverly  he  did  Harry  Pigeon,  or  Jack  Green,  last  week — the 
said  Jack  or  Harry  being,  it  is  always  to  be  understood,  his  most 
particular  of  particulars,  his  unprofessional  money-lender,  his  un¬ 
questioning  kite-endorser,  his  bailer  out  of  station-houses,  in  short, 
his  universal  Amphitryon — by  sticking  into  him  that  old  screw, 
“  Hever-come-too-often,”  who  although  he  could  once  go  low  down 
in  the  thirties,  as  everybody  knows,  has  not  been  up  to  much 
better  than  a  four-mile  gait  any  time  in  the  last  three  years. 
“And  yet,  boys,  by  dint  of  a  little  arsenic,  I  got  the  old  raw- 
boned  beast  as  fat  as  a  prize  pig,  and,  thanks  to  lots  of  carrots 
and  boiled  potatoes  and  a  quantum-suflf.  of  nitre,  as  smooth  in 
his  coat,  as  if  he  had  been  sewn  up  in  satin ;  corned  him  a  bit 
extra  for  a  week,  gingered  and  cayenne-peppered  him,  one  bright 
morning — he  was  too  fine,  after  that,  you  may  be  sure,  to  settle 
down  to  his  work — took  him  out,  under  the  saddle,  for  a  ride  with 
Jack  on  his  cantering  thorough-bred,  and,  before  we  got  home, 
changed  horses  with  him,  and  put  his  check  on  ‘  the  Mechanics’  ’ 
into  my  pocket  for  a  cool  five  hundred,  boot.  His  thorough-bred 
is  better  than  old  “  Never-come-too-often,”  anyhow;  and  as  for 
“  Never,”  if  he  don’t  come  down  on  his  head,  along  of  that  nigh 
fore-leg  giving  out,  altogether — it  has  failed  twice  or  three  times 
already — ^the  first  time  he  shoves  him  a  bit,  on  a  hard  road,  and  a 
little  more  so,  if  it  should  be  down-hill  ground — why,  my  name’s 
not  what  it  used  to  be,  that’s  all,  fellows,  and  I  don’t  know 
nothing  about  horse-fiesh.” 

And,  thereupon,  the  assessors  at  the  feast  of  the  excellent 
“hawk,”  provided,  it  is  like,  by  a  judicious  expenditure  of  a  por¬ 
tion  of  the  spoils  of  “the  pigeon,”  very  much  applaud  the  science, 
the  knowingness,  and  the  savoir-faire  of  the  seller,'' 

and  make  proportionately  merry  over  the  verdancy  of  the  unfor¬ 
tunate  '•^sold;"  anticipating  fresh  delights  from  the  agony  of  the 
said  Jack  Green,  on  the  first  occasion  of  his  matching  his  new 
acquisition,  down  the  road,  and  finding  himself  pumped  out  and 


10 


left  half  a  mile  in  the  lurch,  by  some  regular  old  stager;  or,  still 
better,  from  his  discomfiture  at  being  hurled  upon  his  head,  on  the 
way  down  to  the  Fashion  track,  and  having  to  limp  home,  on 
three  legs,  amid  the  jeers  and  slang  of  fast-driving  butchers,  with 
no  alternative  but  that  of  consigning  his  five-hundred-dollar  pur¬ 
chase  to  the  nearest  manufactory  of  stearine ;  and  no  consolation, 
but  that  of  reflecting  that  if  he  do  no  better,  he  cannot  well  do 
worse,  next  time. 

It  is  certainly  unaccountable  that,  among  Christian  gentlemen, 
considering  themselves  strictly  honorable,  and,  it  is  not  to  bo  dis¬ 
puted,  in  other  respects,  moderately  honest,  as  the  times  go,  two 
cases,  which,  to  the  eyes  of  common  observers,  would  appear  al¬ 
most  identical,  should  be  esteemed  so  different  in  their  nature, 
that,  while  the  one  should  be  stigmatized  as  a  deed  of  unmitigated 
rascality,  the  other  should  be  held  worthy  of  all  praise,  approba¬ 
tion,  and  imitation. 

We  will  suppose  the  two  cases;  and  leave  it  to  our  readers  to 
account  to  themselves  for  the  different  estimate  in  which  they  are 
held  by  the  public — ^the  sporting  public,  we  mean,  by  the  censure 
or  praise  of  which,  alone,  sporting  men  are — ^to  borrow  a  phrase 
from  their  own  vocabulary — liable  to  be  brought  to  book. 

Mr.  Hawker,  we  will  say,  is  a  crack  shot,  an  established  au¬ 
thority  on  all  things  pertaining  to  field  sports ;  his  guns  are  per¬ 
fection  ;  his  dogs  unrivaled  for  breed,  speed,  bottom,  and  break¬ 
ing.  Mr.  Hawker  has  a  large  kennel,  from  which,  as  he  intro¬ 
duces  new  drafts,  season  alter  season,  he  is  in  the  habit  of  selling, 
to  his  friends  or  acquaintances,  those  animals,  which  although 
excellent  are  not  quite  so  first-rate,  as  he  would  himself  choose  to 
shoot  over.  Mr.  Hawker  has  a  large  armory,  from  which,  as  he 
always  buys  all  the  newest  and  latest  improvements,  he  is  some¬ 
times  induced  to  spare  a  gun  to  a  friend,  who  is  willing  to  pay  for 
it,  although  a  good  deal  worn,  the  same  price  it  was  worth  when 
new,  since  the  deterioration  has  been  fully  made  up  by  the  addi¬ 
tional  prestige  conferred  upon  it  by  the  fact  that  it  has  been  for 
some  time  the  chosen  shooting-iron  of  that  first-rate  sportsman. 
Hawker, 

Well,  Hawker  has,  by  some  chance,  a  well-looking  double- 
barrel,  which  still  shoots  hard,  strong,  and  close  with  the  left,  but 


11 


of  which  the  right,  having  been,  as  is  often  the  case,  much  more 
hardly  used  than  its  fellow,  has  given  note  that  it  is  no  longer 
what  it  used  to  be, — has  given,  in  a  word,  symptoms  of  giving 
out,  and  cannot  be  regarded  as  altogether  trustworthy,  or  safe  to 
the  shooter.  His  friend,  a  mere  would-be  beginner  in  the  noble 
art  of  volunicide,  visits  Mr.  Hawker ;  has  heard  that  he  has  a  good 
gun  of  which  he  might  be  induced  to  dispose ;  would  like  to  know 
if  it  is  a  real  good  one ;  would  like  to  see  Mr.  Hawker  fire  a  few 
shots  with  it — just  to  see  how  it  performs — ^being  no  shot  himself; 
not  that  he  has  any  doubt  of  the  gun.  Oh,  no  I — none  in  the  world ; 
but  he  should  like,  before  purchasing,  to  be  sure,  with  Ms  own 
eyes,  of  what  the  gun  can  perform.  Hawker  thereupon  declines, 
in  toto^  to  recommend.  There  is  so  much  difference,  you  know,  in 
the  choice  of  guns.  What  suits  one  man  to  perfection,  doesn’t 
come  up  right  to  another;  or  it  is  a  little  too  heavy,  or  a  little  too 
light,  upon  the'  trigger ;  or  something  or  other  about  it  does  not 
suit ;  and  then,  if  the  buyer  does  not  like  his  purchase,  the  seller 
always  gets  the  blame  and  so  forth — not  but  what  the  gun  has 
been  a  favorite  with  him  for  many  a  day.  A  smashing  killer  it 
used  to  be ;  no  cleaner  killer  in  the  county ;  with  the  left  barrel 
especially — the  left  barrel  always  was,  a  thought,  the  best,  and  is 
yet — “Remember  that^  if  you  ever  own  the  gun;  remember  thaiy 
I  tell  you,  G-reenman,  that  the  left  barrel  is  the  best.”  There¬ 
after,  upon  much  persuasion.  Hawker  takes  down  the  gun  from 
the  hooks,  loads  the  left  barrel  to  a  nicety,  steps  out  upon  the 
lawn,  knocks  over  half  a  dozen  swallows  and  martins,  without 
missing  a  shot — taking  especial  care  to  avoid  the  suspicious  right- 
hand  barrel,  and  to  hold  his  tongue  about  it,  so  that  Greenman, 
never  suspecting  but  that  he  is  blazing  away  with  both,  turn 
about,  is  enchanted  by  the  display,  becomes  the  happy  owner  of 
the  piece,  at  an  enormous  figure,  and,  after  a  month’s  possession, 
on  the  first  day  in  which  he  obtains  some  quick  shooting,  bursts 
the  right  barrel  with  an  under-charge,  loses  his  left  hand  at  the 
wrist,  and  narrowly  escapes  losing  his  life.  Thereupon  all  the 
world  commiserate  Greenman,  and  cry  out  against  the  rascality 
of  Hawker,  who,  as  they  declare,  ought  to  be  tried  for  his  life, 
for  selling  a  condemned  gun,  to  fire  which,  as  he  well  knew,  was 
as  much  as  a  man’s  life  is  worth,  to  any  human  being,  much  less 


12 


to  a  person  whom  he  called  a  friend.  So  Greenman  becomes  a 
hero  because  he  has  been  a  victim,  and  Hawker,  because  he  has 
been  a  victimizer,  is  incontinently — and  we  are  far  from  saying 
undeservedly — sent  to  Coventry. 

Now  let  us  reverse  the  case.  Mr.  Bullfinch  is  a  hunting  genius 
of  repute,  equal  to  that  which  Hawker  boasts  as  a  shot.  He  is 
equally  well  provided  with  all  the  tools  and  appliances  of  his 
trade.  He  has  hunters  of  all  kinds — flyers  for  the  grass  countries; 
steady  well-bottomed  wade-horses,  for  the  plow-lands;  standing- 
jumpers,  water-jumpers,  rushers,  every  thing,  in  a  word,  except 
slugs  or  screws.  Well,  one  bright  morning  he  finds,  as  Mr.  Haw¬ 
ker  found  in  relation  to  his  “Purdey”  or  his  “Moore  &  Gray,” 
that  “Sir  Hercules,”  the  three-hundred-guinea  Lottery  colt,  which 
has  gone  at  the  head  of  the  ruck  the  last  two  seasons  at  Melton, 
has  got  a  screw  loose  somewhere.  The  machine  is  overhauled, 
examined,  weighed  in  the  balance,  and  found  wanting — back  sin¬ 
ews  so  very  shaky  that  it  is  all  but  certain  the  first  hard  day, 
over  hardish  ground,  will  finish  them.  There  is  a  suspicion  also 
that  the  wind  of  “  Sir  Hercules”  is  not  quite  the  same  thing  that  it 
was,  when  he  led  the  ruck,  as  aforesaid,  at  Melton  Mowbray.  In 
short,  Mr.  Bullfinch  judges  it  advisable  to  get  rid  of  “  Sir  Hercules” 
at  the  best  figure  he  can  make  of  him,  but  at  any  figure  rather  than 
not  at  aU,  and  that  as  soon  as  possible. 

Well,  in  process  of  time,  Mr.  Bullfinch’s  friend,  Mr.  Greenman, 
waits  on  him,  just  as  had  occurred  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Hawker. 
The  same  farce  is  played  over  again.  Bullfinch  could  not  think  of 
recommending  “Sir  Hercules,”  of  recommending  “any  horse,”  in 
short,  to  any  gentleman,  least  of  all  to  a  friend.  A  horse  that  car¬ 
ries  one  man,  to  his  ideal,  to  another  man  is  impracticable ;  he  pulls 
too  much,  or  he  does  not  pull  enough ;  or  his  mouth  is  too  heavy, 
or  it  is  too  light, — just  as  the  man’s  hand,  you  know,  is  too  hard  or 
too  delicate ;  or  he  shies,  or  he  is  too  long  or  too  short  a  strider ; 
or  he  is  something  or  other,  which  does  not  suit  the  buyer ;  and 
then  the  seller  gets  all  the  blame  with  the  world, — the  world  is  so 
hard  upon  all  horse-dealers.  Oh,  no !  by  no  manner  of  means  I 
Mr.  Bullfinch  could  not  think  of  recommending  “  Sir  Hercules”  to 
his  friend  Greenman ;  if  he  should  like  to  try  him,  however,  a  can¬ 
ter  aroimd  the  park  and  over  the  clipped  holly-hedge,  and  the 


14 


Bourne  brook,  in  the  bottom,  and,  for  the  matter  of  that,  the  park 
palings,  if  he  pleases,  beside  Hartley  Wood,  where  it  is  all  grass¬ 
land  and  nice  soft  ground  at  that,  he  can  do  so  and  welcome ;  and 
then,  if  he  like  to  buy,  “entirely  on  his  own  responsibihty,”  you 
know,  why  the  price  is  three  hundred — it  ought  to  be  three  hun¬ 
dred  and  fifty!  How  could  any  one  expect  to  get  a  horse  that  had 
gone  in  front  of  the  whole  ruck,  at  Melton,  for  two  years,  short 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty  ?  But,  as  it  is  his  friend  Greenman,  and 
Greenman  has  taken  such  a  fancy  to  “  Sir  Hercules,”  why,  Mr. 
Bullfinch  will  say  three  hundred ;  but  Greenman  must  be  sure  to 
remember  that  he  did  not  recommend  the  horse — would  not  re- 
/  commend  any  horse — no,  by  Jove ! 

Well,  Greenman  tries  the  horse — a  hand- gallop  over  the  soft, 
smooth  green;  over  the  clipped  holly -hedge ;  over  the  Bourne 
brook,  with  a  splendid  sweep,  covering  thirty  feet ;  over  the  park- 
pales,  with  the  practiced  buck-leap  of  a  finished  hunter — on  the 
soft  ground,  and  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  he  could  not  fail,  if  he 
tried.  Greenman  is  charmed.  Greenman  buys  “Sir  Hercules,” 
as  an  especial  favor,  at  three  hundred;  and  a  week  afterward, 
toward  the  end  of  a  brilliant  burst,  over  hard  ground,  in  which  he 
has  gone  splendidly  for  half  an  hour,  “Sir  Hercules”  breaks  down 
irretrievably,  in  the  back  sinews  of  his  near  fore-leg,  as  he  is  in 
the  act  of  going  at  a  rasping  Bullfinch  pace.  He  chests  the  live 
wood,  turns  a  complete  summerset  on  the  top  of  his  rider,  breaking 
his  collar-bone  and  half  a  dozen  of  his  ribs, — and  is  shot,  within 
ten  minutes,  as  hopelessly,  incurably  lamed  and  ruined  for  life. 

Now,  ordinary  mortals  would  be  apt  to  regard  these  two  as 
parallel  cases ;  and  to  consider  the  case  of  Mr.  Bullfinch  as  in  no 
wise  more  favorable  than  that  of  Mr.  Hawker.  Ignorant,  ordi¬ 
nary  mortals  1  The  very  world  which  bemoaned  the  fate  of  Mr. 
Greenman,  the  gun-buyer — which  proclaimed  him  a  cruelly  ill-used 
individual,  and  ostracized  Mr.  Hawker  for  selling  him,  have  no 
bowels  of  compassion  for  Mr.  Greenman,  the  horse-buyer,  nor  one 
word  of  reprobation  for  Mr.  Bullfinch,  the  horse-seller.  Far  from 
it — he  has  gained  a  point.  He  stands  one  peg  higher  before  the 
world,  as  a  horseman,  than  he  stood  before — and  all  that  Green¬ 
man  will  hear  of  liimself  by  way  of  consolation,  which  will  not, 
probably,  prove  too  consolatory,  is — “  D — d  fool,  that  Greenman ! 


16 


serves  him  right,  by  Jove !  it  would  have  been  no  great  harm  if 
it  had  been  his  neck  1  Might  have  known  better  than  to  have 
bought  a  horse  of  such  a  tip-top  performer  as  Bullfinch.  Just  as 
if  Bullfinch  would  sell  a  horse,  while  he  had  any  real  good  left  in 
him ;  or  as  if  he  would  have  sold  Sir  Hercules  for  twice  three 
hundred,  unless  there  had  been  a  screw  loose  somewhere.  Con¬ 
founded  ass,  that  Greenman.  Deuced  glad  Bullfinch  let  him  in  for 
three  hundred — wish  it  had  been  for  twice  as  much.  Wonder,  if  I 
could  not  stick  my  old  brown  mare,  Betsey  Baker,  into  him.  She 
is  only  blind  of  one  eye,  and  has  an  incipient  bog  spavin.  I’ll  try  it 
on,  I  believe.  Confounded  ass,  that  Greenman ;  one  ought  to  make 
all  one  can  out  of  such  fiats  while  the  sunshine  lasts — that  is  to  say, 
while  they  have  any  thing  left  which  one  can  make  out  of  them.” 

This,  therefore,  being  the  public  sentiment  in  reference  to  small 
advantages  taken  of  the  unwary  iii  the  matter  of  horse-dealing, 
though,  as  aforesaid,  we  neither  made  nor  can  comprehend,  much 
less  can  explain  the  sentiment,  and  it  being  conceded  that  not 
only  professional  sharps,  but  even  amateur  sharps,  honorable  gen¬ 
tlemen  in  high  places,  will  condescend  to  practice  upon  the  ver¬ 
dancy  of  would-be  horse-purchasing  fiats,  it  is  the  more  necessary 
that  they  should  be  put  something  on  their  guard  in  relation  to 
some  of  the  most  flagrant  tricks  and  traps  of  the  horse-dealing 
community,  whether  of  this  class  or  of  that ;  and  to  this  end  we 
propose  to  devote  a  little  leisure  time,  and  a  little  of  the  experi¬ 
ence  gained  by  a  long  period  of  horse-fancying  and  horse-keeping, 
diversified,  it  may  be,  somewhat  by  trivial  interludes  of  conjuga¬ 
ting  the  verb  victimize  in  its  active  and  passive  forms,  as,  for 
instance,  “I  victimize  you,  having  myself  been  victimized  by  him.” 

The  method  which  we  propose  to  adopt,  is  to  institute  an  ex¬ 
amination  of  all  the  principal  parts  and  members  of  the  horse, 
beginning  with  the  head,  and  continuing  until  the  whole  structure 
of  the  animal,  with  the  principal  defects  and  methods  adopted, 
by  dishonest  dealers,  to  palliate  or  conceal  those  defects,  has  been 
fully  treated  in  detail.  By  this  means,  and  by  the  introduction 
of,  here  and  there,  a  racy  anecdote  by  way  of  illustration,  and  to 
fix  the  subject-matter  on  the  memory  of  the  reader,  it  is  hoped 
that  we  may  do  something  to  forewarn  and  forearm  the  unwary 
against  some  at  least  of  the  tricks  and  traps  of  horse-dealers. 


CHAPTER  II. 


The  Head:  Its  Ailments  and  Defects. — The  Eye. 

It  seems  almost  a  truism  and  an  absurdity  to  say,  that  in  a 
horse  there  is  no  more  important  point  than  his  head,  and  that  if 
his  head  be  not  of  the  right  size,  the  right  form,  and,  in  addition 
to  all  this,  rightly  set  on,  the  animal  can  have  neither  beauty  nor 
carriage,  lightness  on  the  hand,  amenability  to  the  bit,  nor,  in 
fact,  any  pretensions  at  all  to  be  a  superior  or  a  desirable  animal. 
Yet,  truism  or  not,  it  must  be,  here,  said.  It  will  be,  then,  not 
amiss  to  consider,  shortly,  what  constitutes  a  right  good  head,  by 
what  standard  its  size  should  be  judged,  and  in  what  consists  its 
good  or  its  bad  setting  on. 

A  well-formed  head  should  be  perfectly  straight  and  flat  from 
the  top-knot  to  the  orbit  of  the  eyes,  and  from  thence  downward, 
nearly  half  the  length  to  the  muzzle ;  should  be  hollow  or  con¬ 
cave,  the  nasal  bones  rising  slightly  above  the  nostrils,  where 
they  should  again  be  depressed  and  slope  gently  downward  to  the 
termination  of  the  upper  jaw.  This  formation  is  that  which 
gives  the  characteristic  basin-face  of  the  Arabian  horse,  which  has 
descended,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  to  the  thorough-bred  horse 
of  America  and  England,  and  which  is  nearly  as  much  a  stamp 
and  mark  of  purity  and  excellence  of  blood,  as  are  the  thin  skin 
and  protuberant  veins  of  the  same  animal.  This  basin-face  forma¬ 
tion  is  as  clearly  a  beauty  in  every  family  of  horse  to  which  it 
belongs,  or  in  which  it  is  found,  as  is  its  converse,  the  protu¬ 
berant,  Roman  nose,  an  ugly  defect,  a  mark  of  coarse  cold  blood, 
and,  as  believed,  whether  rightfully  or  wrongfully,  by  many 
horsemen,  a  criterion  of  temper,  indicating  an  obstinate,  stubborn, 
and  sulky  disposition. 


17 


That  the  form  of  the  nose  should  be  in  any  way  an  effect  or  a 
cause  of  temper,  would  seem  to  be  palpably  absurd,  notwith¬ 
standing  what  has  in  all  ages  been  the  received  opinion  concern¬ 
ing  the  little  feminine  peculiarities  indicated  by  the  turned-up 
nose  of  Roxand ;  it  is  not  so  absurd,  however,  when  we  regard 
it  as  a  mark  of  family  blood,  which  we  think  it  may  be  confidently 
allowed  to  be ;  for  blood  has,  indubitably,  its  adjunct  and  charac¬ 
teristic  peculiarities  of  disposition  and  temperament. 

Beyond  this,  the  front  should  be  moderately  broad  between  the 
ears,  which  should  be  small,  delicately  pointed,  erect,  or  rather 
pricked  forward,  and  rather  far  apart  than  near  together.  The 
plane  of  the  frontal  bone  should  expand  considerably  in  the  region 
of  the  orbits  of  the  eyes,  which  is  the  broadest  point ;  and  the 
width  here  gives  much  of  the  noble,  open,  and  generous  aspect 
and  appearance  which  is  peculiar  to  the  blood-horse ;  thence  the 
face  should  taper  considerably  to  the  thinnest  point,  just  above 
the  nose,  where  it  should  expand  in  soft  curves,  to  give  full  room 
for  the  nasal  cavities  and  the  wide  orifices  of  the  nostrils.  The 
jowl,  or  upper  portion  of  the  posterior  maxillary  bone,  forming  the 
cheek,  should  be  flat,  bony,  not  meaty,  with  a  clean  and  nearly 
semicircular  curve  to  its  under  outline ;  the  jaw  should  be  thin, 
clear  of  flesh,  tapering  and  bony ;  the  chin  well  developed,  and 
rather  prominent  than  otherwise.  The  orbits  of  the  eyes  and  the 
orifices  of  the  nostrils  should  be  large  and  open;  the  blood¬ 
vessels  prominent  and  conspicuous  through  the  skin;  the  pro¬ 
cesses  of  bone  sharp  and  weU  defined ;  the  chords  and  sinews 
well  marked;  but  the  whole  head,  as  its  chief  characteristic, 
should  be  bony,  rather  than  fleshy  or  muscular,  especially  at  the 
insertion  of  the  neck,  and  along  the  under  outline  of  the  lower 
jaw. 

In  regard  to  size,  in  a  perfectly  well-made  horse,  the  length  of 
the  head  should  be  equal  to  the  length  of  the  throat,  from  the  in¬ 
sertion  in  the  jowl  to  the  chest.  The  length  of  the  neck,  from 
the  poU  to  the  insertion  of  the  withers  in  the  back,  should  be 
precisely  equal  to  two  heads ;  the  saddle  place,  from  the  inser¬ 
tion  of  the  withers  to  the  hip,  precisely  one  head;  the  length 
from  the  hip  to  the  insertion  of  the  tail,  one  head.  The  fore-arm, 
from  the  insertion  of  the  chest  to  the  lower  extremity  of  the 


18 


knee-joint ;  the  quarter,  measured  from  the  point  of  the  stifle  to 
the  upper  point  of  the  hock,  and  the  hinder  shank,  from  the 
upper  point  of  the  hock  to  the  ground,  should  be,  each  and  all, 
precisely  one  head’s  length ;  and,  if  the  head  exceed  the  measure 
of  any  one,  or  all,  of  these  points,  all  of  which,  in  a  perfectly 
well-made  horse,  will  exactly  coincide,  or  fall  below  it,  it  is,  by 
exactly  the  measure  of  its  excess  or  default,  disproportionately 
large,  or  small.  The  latter  fault,  it  may  be  here  observed,  though 
it  is  the  commonest  of  all  in  the  portraits  of  horses,  which  almost 
invariably  reduce  the  length  of  the  heads,  and  exaggerate  that  of 
the  necks  in  an  absurd  degree,  is  the  most  rare  of  aU  things  in  a 
real  horse, — so  rare,  that  although  the  writer  has  seen  many  a 
score  of  horses,  with  heads  too  large  for  beauty  or  utility,  he 
never  saw  a  single  instance  of  one  too  small,  in  proportion  to  the 
frame  and  limbs. 

The  next  point  to  be  considered  is  the  setting  on  of  the  head; 
and  this,  together  with  the  size  and  form  of  that  capital  organ, 
has  so  much  to  do  with  the  pleasure  and  comfort  of  the  owner, 
both  in  regard  to  riding  and  driving,  but  more  especiaUy  to  the 
former,  that  it  must  never  be  neglected  by  the  purchaser.  In 
this  respect,  the  first  and  great  point  is  the  formation  of  the  neck 
and  throat,  for  with  an  ill-made  and  ill-balanced  neck,  it  is  not 
possible  to  have  a  well  set-on  head.  The  neck  of  a  horse  should 
always  be  convex  on  the  upper  side,  its  vertebrae  forming  a  reg¬ 
ular  arch,  the  highest  point  of  which,  when  clothed  with  its 
muscles,  is  situated  at  about  one-third  of  the  length,  reckoning 
from  the  head,  when  the  animal  is  standing  at  ease,  and  is  not 
excited  or  induced  to  elevate  his  crest  by  any  thing  which  may 
chance  to  attract  his  attention ;  the  under  side  of  the  neck,  which 
is  occupied  by  the  windpipe  and  gullet,  larynx  and  pharynx^ 
should  offer  a  concave  arch,  nearly  similar  to  the  external  curva- 
tion  of  the  upper  arch  of  the  neck,  with  the  exception  only, 
that,  the  base  of  the  neck,  where  it  is  inserted  in  the  chest,  being 
much  deeper,  and  more  heavily  clothed  with  muscles  than  the 
upper  part,  where  it  joins  the  head,  the  concavity  below  will  be 
less  regular  and  far  less  gradual  than  the  curve  above.  The 
reason  why  this  form  is  desirable,  is  this,  that  the  elastic  liga¬ 
ment,  or  pack  wax,  as  it  is  technically  called,  which  keeps  the 


.19 


head,  in  its  ordinary  state,  at  a  proper  elevation,  passes,  loosely, 
over  the  first  vertebral  bone  of  the  spinal  column  of  the  neck,  and 
is  principally  attached  to  the  dentata,  or  second  bone,  on  which 
lies  the  chief  stress.  This  ligament  is  so  elastic,  that,  when  those 
muscles,  the  use  of  which  it  is  to  depress  or  lower  the  head,  are 
brought  into  operation  and  add  their  power  to  the  natural  weight 
of  the  head,  it  will  stretch  to  the  full  extent  of  two  inches ;  and, 
as  soon  as  the  pressure  ceases,  which  has  caused  it  to  yield,  will 
return,  with  a  spring  like  that  of  a  steel  bow,  and  bring  back  the 
head  to  its  proper  position.  Now,  it  is  evident  that  if  the  dentata, 
or  bone  over  which  this  ligament  passes,  and  from  which  it  de¬ 
rives  its  extension,  be  at  the  vertex  of  a  convex  arch,  the  ex¬ 
tension  will  be  entirely  downward ;  so  as  to  allow  the  head,  when 
depressed,  to  descend  to  the  full  extent  of  the  elasticity,  and  the 
nose  to  come  in  toward  the  chest,  as  it  should  do,  obedient  to  the 
pressure  of  the  bit.  On  the  contrary,  if  it  be  within  the  hollow 
of  a  concave  arch,  as  it  is  in  that  bad  formation  of  the  neck, 
known  to  horsemen  as  the  Ewe-neck^  which  is  connected  with  a 
jutting  out  and  convexity  of  the  under  side,  which  should  be 
concave,  giving  the  animal  that  ungainly  appearance,  designated 
by  the  term  cock-thrappled,  from  its  similarity  to  the  out-strutting 
gullet  of  chanticleer,  the  elastic  ligament,  in  passing  over  the 
first  bone,  which  will  necessarily  be  exterior  to  and  higher  than 
the  second,  will  have  the  greater  portion  of  its  elasticity  expended 
before  it  reaches  the  head,  at  all,  so  that  the  head  can  never  be 
properly  or  gracefully  deflected,  and  that  the  nose  must,  neces¬ 
sarily,  when  the  head  is  brought  back,  be  protruded  beyond  the 
plane  of  the  frontal  bone,  instead  of  forming  with  it  a  perpendicu¬ 
lar  to  the  horizon,  or  even  falling  within  the  perpendicular. 

To  render  this  description  more  comprehensible,  we  attach  two 
sketches.  The  first  is  one  of  a  head  and  neck  about  as  good  as 
can  be  desired,  presenting  all  the  points  on  which  we  have  in¬ 
sisted,  and  which  will  naturally  allow,  as  will  be  seen  at  a  glance, 
the  nose,  when  deflected,  to  descend  inward,  with  a  graceful 
downward  curve  of  all  the  vertebrae  of  the  neck,  toward  the  chest 
of  the  animal,  which  is,  as  we  have  before  stated,  the  grand 
desideratum  in  the  carriage  of  the  animal. 

The  second  is  one  of  a  head  and  neck  about  as  bad  as  can  be 


20 


found,  presenting  the  ewe-neck,  the  false  attachment  of  the  head, 
•  '  the  thick  jowl,  the  Roman  nose,  and  the  heavy,  meaty  head  in 
generah  This  latter  sketch  will  suffice  to  show  the  inteUigent 


ABOUT  AS  BAD  AS  CAN  BE. 

observer,  first,  that  the  undue  size  and  weight  of  the  head  will 
render  it  impossible  for  the  animal  to  get  it  properly  and  hand¬ 
somely  up,  but  must  force  it  horizontally  forward ;  and,  secondly, 


21 


that  the  malformation  of  the  neck,  on  the  pressure  of  the  bit  upon' 
the  jaws,  will  cause  the  nose  to  be  protruded  outward,  the  crest 
and  back  of  the  neck  to  be  brought  back  toward  the  hand,  and 
the  flexure  of  the  throat  to  be  bent,  more  and  more,  forward  and 
outward,  so  as  to  give  the  animal,  more  and  more,  the  air  and 
carriage  of  the  peacock,  and,  less  and  less,  that  of  the  horse. 


In  order  to  explain  yet  more  fully  our  meaning,  and  to  eluci¬ 
date  the  action  of  the  muscles  and  the  operation  of  the  two  for¬ 


mations,  which  we  have  described,  we  add  two  further  outline 
sketches  of  the  two  necks,  represented  above  in  their  natural 


22 


quiescent  states  or  positions,  when  subjected  to  the  influence  of 
the  same  pull  upon  the  same  part,  and  with  the  same  power. 
The  carriage  of  the  two  animals  will  be  seen,  the  one  to  be  as 
graceful,  and  such  as  to  bring  the  mouth  as  completely  under  the 
control  of  the  rider,  as  possible ;  the  other  to  be  as  ungainly  as 
can  be  conceived,  and  such  as  to  render  the  control  of  the  action, 
or  paces,  all  but  impossible. 

We  now  proceed  to  those  diseases  and  defects  to  which  the 
head  of  the  horse  is  liable,  and  to  the  tricks  by  which  dealers 
have  it  in  their  power,  more  or  less,  to  patch  them  up  tem¬ 
porarily,  or  conceal  them,  and  to  the  modes  of  examination  by 
which  they  are  to  be  detected.  The  principal  and,  perhaps,  most 
dangerous  sui  generis  disease  of  the  horse’s  head  is  that  known  as 
the  poll  evil,  which  is  produced  either  by  striking  the  poll  against 
the  lower  edge  of  the  manger,  or  of  a  low  doorway,  in  the  act  of 
passing  in  or  passing  out,  or  by  hanging  back  in  the  stall  and 
bruising  the  part  with  the  halter.  It  may  also  be  produced  by 
painful  overstretching  of  the  ligaments  by  means  of  tight  reining, 
or  even  by  a  severe  blow  cruelly  inflicted.  On  the  commence¬ 
ment  of  the  disease  violent  inflammation  appears,  accompanied  by 
considerable  swelling,  tenderness,  and  pain  in  the  parts  affected, 
which  are  situated,  deeply  seated  between  the  pack  wax^  or  sup¬ 
porting  hgament  of  the  neck,  and  the  atlas,  or  flrst  bone  of  the 
neck,  over  which  it  passes  loosely  without  attachment.  Some¬ 
times  this  affection  is  easily  checked  in  the  start  by  cold  applica¬ 
tions,  sometimes  it  becomes  very  virulent,  forms  a  deeply-seated 
abscess  and  ulcer,  eating  into  the  ligaments  of  the  neck,  when  it  is 
both  intensely  painful  and  extremely  dangerous.  In  its  incipient 
state  it  is  easily  detected  by  examination,  the  swelling  being  ap¬ 
parent  to  the  eye,  so  as  to  be  readily  detected,  and  the  parts 
being  hot  to  the  touch,  and  so  tender  and  painful  that  the  animal 
will  shrink  from  the  slightest  application  of  the  hand. 

When  it  has  degenerated  into  an  open  ulcer,  it  is,  of  course,  un¬ 
mistakably  manifest.  In  no  case,  either  when  incipient,  or  in  an 
aggravated  condition,  should  any  person  dream  of  purchasing  a 
horse  so  affected.  There  is,  however,  no  mode  by  which  this  dis¬ 
ease  can  be  concealed  from  a  careful  observer,  nor,  when  it  has  ^ 
once  been  thoroughly  cured,  is  there  the  slightest  danger  of  a 


2S 


relapse,  or  any  objection  to  purchasing,  unless  it  have  left,  as  it 
occasionally  will,  an  ugly  defect  and  blemish,  owing  to  the  de¬ 
struction  of  the  hair  on  the  parts,  and  even  of  the  mane,  by  the 
disorganization  an(i  replacement  of  the  cuticle. 

Pressure,  or  “water  in  the  brain,”  is  very  rare  in  the  grown 
horse,  although  it  is  not  unusual  in  the  foal,  when  the  head  is  im¬ 
mensely  and  hideously  enlarged,  and  the  animal  dies  in  a  very 
short  time.  The  other  principal  diseases  of  the  head,  as  megrims, 
apoplexy,  stomach-staggers,  mad-staggers,  locked-jaw,  epileptic 
fits,  palsy,  are  so  acute  in  their  nature  and  characteristics,  that  it 
is  almost  impossible  that  a  horse  should  be  offered  for  sale  during 
the  time  of  their  occurrence :  they  could  not  fail  to  be  detected  by 
the  merest  tyro.  The  last-mentioned  disease  is  evinced  by  a  total 
paralysis,  generally  of  the  hind  parts ;  the  others  are  either  rapidly 
fatal  or  speedily  cured  for  the  time  being.  None  of  them  leave 
any  visible  symptoms  by  which  they  can  be  detected,  after  they 
have  been  once  cured  for  the  time ;  but  if  they  are  suspected  or 
known  to  have  occurred,  no  prudent  man  would  buy  a  horse 
which  had  been  so  affected,  as  it  is  nearly  certain  that  they  will 
return. 

From  the  diseases  of  the  brain,  we  come  at  once  to  those  of  that 
most  important  organ,  the  eye.  These  are  not  capable  of  being 
concealed  from  a  scientific  examiner,  but  they  are  not,  by  any 
means,  easily  discovered  by  a  novice ;  and  we  shall,  therefore,  give 
full  descriptions  of  their  symptoms,  and  of  the  mode  of  examination 
by  which  they  are  the  most  readily  discovered. 

The  first  is  common  inflammation  of  the  eye,  produced  either  by 
the  effects  of  cold  or  .by  some  external  irritation,  or  the  effect  of  a 
blow.  The  lids,  when  the  animal  is  affected  with  this  form  of  the 
disease,  will  be  swelled,  the  eyes  partially  closed  with  weeping. 
The  inside  of  the  lid  will  be  red,  some  streaks  of  red  will  be  visible 
on  the  white  of  the  eye,  and  the  cornea  will  be  dim.  The  health 
of  the  horse  is  not  affected ;  he  feeds  well  and  performs  his  work 
as  usual.  This  type  of  inflammation  is  easily  cured  in  general  by 
cooling  applications,  low  diet,  and  an  occasional  dose  of  physic ; 
but,  as  it  is  very  apt  to  degenerate  into,  and  even  to  be  confounded 
vdth,  specific  ophthalmia,  or  moon-blindness,  which  is,  in  its  worst 
state,  total  and  incurable  blindness,  and,  even  in  its  less  virulent 


24 


forms,  a  most  dangerous  and  troublesome  affection,  causing  tbe 
animal  to  start  and  shy  violently  from  every  object  he  may  chance 
to  meet,  the  appearance  of  this  disease,  or  any  of  the  symptoms  by 
which  its  approach  or  previous  existence  are  fhdicated,  should  be 
at  once  a  cause  for  rejecting  the  animal. 

These  symptoms  are,  according  to  Mr.  Youatt,  as  given  in  his 
valuable  work  on  the  horse,  “  a  slight  thickening  of  the  lids,  or 
puckering  toward  the  inner  corner  of  the  eye ;  a  difference  in  the 
apparent  size  of  the  eyes ;  a  cloudiness,  although,  perhaps,  scarcely 
perceptible,  of  the  surface  of  the  cornea,  or  more  deely  seated,  or  a 
hazy  circle  around  its  edge ;  a  gloominess  of  the  eye  generally  and 
dullness  of  the  iris,  or  a  minute,  faint,  dusky  spot  in  the  center, 
with  or  without  little  fibers  or  hues  diverging  from  it.” 

When  it  is  in  its  advancing  or  increased  state,  the  eye  is  ex¬ 
cessively  sensitive,  and  can  scarcely  endure  the  light ;  the  cornea 
is  considerably  clouded;  the  aqueous  humor  loses  its  transpar¬ 
ency  ;  even  the  iris  changes  its  color,  and  the  pupil  is  exceedingly 
contracted.  It  is  a  singularly  deceptive  and  fluctuating  disease, 
often  remitting,  so  that  the  eye,  to  a  casual  observer  and  on  a 
slight  examination,  would  appear  entirely  sound  and  unaffected, 
this  state  enduring,  perhaps,  for  six  weeks  or  two  months,  when 
either  the  same  eye  undergoes  a  relapse  or  the  other  is  attacked ; 
when,  after  a  series  of  repeated  attacks  and  alterations  from  one 
eye  to  the  other,  it  terminates  in  total  opacity  of  the  lens,  or  its 
capsule,  in  one  or  both  eyes,  and  in  perfect  and  irremediable 
blindness. 

This  ailment  is  produced  by  various  causes,  among  which  may 
be  enumerated  filthy,  ill-ventilated  stables,  the  ammoniacal 
fumes  proceeding  from  the  ordure  and  urine  accumulated  in 
which  often  affect  the  eyes,  in  the  most  fatal  manner.  Almost 
equally  detrimental  to  the  eye  is  the  darkness  which  prevails  in 
many  stables,  and  which,  alternating  with  the  external  glare  when 
the  animal  is  brought  out  to  work,  dazzles  and  bewilders  the 
animal,  and  in  process  of  time  finally  injures  and  irreparably 
destroys  the  organ. 

In  addition  to  the  actual,  direct  ill  consequences  of  this  disease, 
it  is  doubly  fatal,  in  that  it  is  almost  certainly  hereditary,  and  that 
a  stallion,  however  admirably  formed  and  in  all  other  points  how 


25 


superior  soever,  if  he  be  affected  by  this  fatal  defect,  is  almost 
certain  to  transmit  to  his  posterity  weak  eyes,  if  not  total  blind¬ 
ness.  There  is  no  fact,  says  Youatt,  better  established  than  this. 

“Opacity  of  the  lens,”  proceeds  Mr.  Youatt,  “is  another  conse¬ 
quence  of  inflammation.  A  white  speck  appears  on  the  center 
lens,  which  gradually  spreads  over  it,  and  completely  covers  it. 
It  is  generally  so  white  and  pearly  as  not  to  be  mistaken;  at 
other  t’mes  more  hazy,  deceiving  the  inexperienced,  and  occasion¬ 
ing  doubt  even  in  the  mind  of  the  professional  man.  We  have 
seen  many  instances  in  which  the  sight  has  been  evidently  affected, 
or  almost  lost,  and  yet  a  different  opinion  has  been  given  by  very 
fair  judges.  The  eye  must  be  exposed  to  the  light,  and  yet  under 
the  kind  of  shelter  we  have  described,  in  order  to  discover  the 
defect.” 

Another  species  of  blindness,  affecting  the  retina  of  the  eye,  is 
that  called,  technically,  gutta-serena,  but  commonly  glass-eye.  The 
pupil  is  enormously  dilated,  immovable,  bright,  and  glassy.  This 
is  palsy  of  the  optic  nerve,  or  expansion  of  the  retina,  and  is 
usually  produced  by  determination  of  blood  to  the  head.  It  is 
said,  occasionally,  to  be  a  consequence  of  staggers.  The  seat  of 
disease  is  beyond  the  reach  of  the  practitioner,  and  it  is,  in  itself, 
probably  incurable. 

We  now  pass  to  the  mode  of  examination  by  which,  and  by 
which  alone,  the  above  defects  and  diseases  of  the  eye  can  be 
detected,  premising  that,  although  there  is  no  way  by  which  a 
dishonest  dealer  can  conceal  the  evidences  of  blindness  when  they 
are  real  and  determined,  yet  there  are  many  situations,  as  in  the 
alternating  condition  of  moon-blindness,  or  the  slighter  form  of 
opacity  of  the  lens,  when  he  may  talk  a  tyro  out  of  whatever  sus¬ 
picion  he  may  entertain  relative  to  the  eyes,  and  by  throwing 
obstacles  in  the  way  of  a  thorough  investigation,  palm  off  a  blind 
horse  for  a  sound  one. 

In  cases  of  incipient  inflammation,  where  the  principal,  or  only 
symptoms,  are  the  redness  of  the  lids  and  a  weeping  condition  of 
the  eye,  a  dealer  will  be  furnished  with  an  abundance  of  rea^y 
excuses  manufactured  to  account  for  the  ailment  as  if  it  were  of 
casual  occurrence.  “A  bit  of  hay  got  into  his  eye  last  night. 
Sir,”  is  a  frequent  apology,  according  to  Harry  Hieover,  in  his 


26 

clever  little  book,  “How  to  Buy  a  Horse;”  or,  addressed  to  the 
helper,  “  ‘Bill,  I  knew  you’d  hit  that  horse’s  eye  when  you  were 
brushing  his  head  this  morning — I  told  you  so;’  after  which  fol¬ 
lows,  as  a  matter  of  course,  ‘  It  is  of  no  consequence.  Sir ;  it  will 
be  well  enough  to-morrow.’  Now,  it  is  of  no  use,”  continues  our 
author,  “  to  argue  with  a  horse-dealer,  and  you  will  gain  little  by 
asking  many  questions ;  therefore,  either  make  up  your  mind  to 
have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  animal,  or  else  say  you 
will  call  and  see  him  another  day.  And  here  I  may  as  well  say, 
that  a  man  who  is  a  good  judge  of  horse-flesh  should  always  de¬ 
termine  not  to  pay  the  slightest  attention  to  the  encomiums  which 
every  dealer  will  pass  upon  his  stock.  Let  all  his  eloquence,  if  it 
must  be  heard,  make  no  more  impression  on  your  mind  than  do 
the  tunes  which  you  are  in  the  daily  habit  of  hearing  ground  upon 
all  the  organs  in  London.  Form  your  own  opinion  of  what  you 
see  and  feel,  and  let  no  persuasion  tempt  you  to  disbelieve  the 
evidences  of  your  own  senses.  This  by  way  of  episode.” 

When  a  horse  is  to  be  examined  for  defects  in  the  eyes,  he 
should  be  led  just  within  the  stable-door,  where  there  is  not  too 
strong  a  light,  but  still  sufficient  to  allow  a  perfect  view  of  the 
organ,  without  causing  the  pupil  to  contract.  “Approach,”  says 
Hieover,  “your  finger  gently  toward  each  eye  in  succession,  and 
mark  if  the  horse  close  his  eyelid  on  your  nearly  touching  the 
eye ;  if  so,  it  is  clear  that  he  is  at  least  capable  of  distinguishing 
your  finger ;  but  this  is  by  no  means  sufficient  to  warrant  a  con¬ 
clusion  that  he  is  sound.” 

The  examiner  should  now  place  himself  in  front  of  the  horse, 
and  carefully  examine  if  both  pupils  be  of  the  same  size,  and 
alike.  If  there  be  any  difference,  it  is  certain  that  there  is  a  defect 
in  his  sight.  The  form  of  the  healthy  pupil  is  a  rather  flattened 
oval,  and  is  or  should  be  of  a  deep-blue  color,  bright  and  free 
from  specks.  When  it  is  of  a  milky  hue,  it  is  a  sign  that  in¬ 
flammation  of  the  membrane  is  going  on;  and,  of  course,  it  is 
unnecessary  to  add  that  no  horse  should  ever  be  purchased  with 
this  appearance  of  the  eye.  The  next  point  to  be  observed  is 
whether  there  be  any  spots  or  specks  on  the  pupil ;  where  these 
occur,  whether  they  be  dark  or  light  colored,  they  are  always 
suspicious,  and  indicate  defects  and  disease.  The  dark,  irregular- 


2T 


shaped  blots  are  the  results  of  previous  disease,  impede  vision,  and 
render  the  horse  unsafe  to  ride.  Sometimes  there  may  be  a  small 
whitish  spot  on  the  surface  of  the  membrane,  which  is  generally 
the  result  of  an  old  blow,  and  if  it  be  small  and  completely  ex¬ 
ternal,  is  seldom  of  serious  consequence ;  i^  however,  it  be  deeply 
seated,  it  indicates  that  incurable  disease  of  the  lens  known  as 
cataract.  There  is  yet  to  be  noticed  moon-blindness,  which,  as  it 
produces  no  external  change  in  the  appearance  of  the  eye,  is  the 
most  difficult  of  all  to  discover ;  it  is,  nevertheless,  an  incurable 
disease,  and  renders  a  Horse  both  disagreeable  and  dangerous  to 
ride.  It  produces  shying,  timidity,  an  awkward,  ill-assured  gait, 
like  that  of  a  purblind  man,  and  causes  the  animal  to  appear  to  be 
constantly  on  the  look-out  for  objects  at  which  to  take  alarm, 
“If,”  says  the  author  we  have  previously  quoted,  “a  horse,  on 
being  led  out  of  or  into  a  livery  yard  where  the  entrance  is  lofty, 
appear  to  stop  and  hesitate  in  passing  the  gate,  and  then  go 
through  it  with  a  sort  of  plunge ;  and  if  in  the  streets  he  stretch 
his  neck  from  side  to  side,  poking  his  nose  out,  and  seeming,  like 
a  purblind  man,  to  be  endeavoring  to  make  out  the  nature  of 
objects  at  a  short  distance  before  him,  let  your  suspicions  of  the 
state  of  his  eye  be  immediately  aroused,  and  be  sure  to  have  a 
very  sufficient  trial  before  you  become  the  purchaser  of  such  an 
animal.” 

“  There  is  nothing,”  says  another  competent  authority,  Mr. 
Youatt,  in  his  work  on  the  horse,  “  which  deserves  so  much  at¬ 
tention  from  the  purchaser  of  a  horse  as  the  perfect  transparency 
of  the  cornea  over  its  whole  surface.  The  eye  should  be  examined 
for  this  purpose,  both  in  front  and  with  the  face  of  the  examiner 
close  to  the  cheek  of  the  horse,  under  and  behind  the  eye.  The 
latter  method  of  looking  through  the  cornea  is  most  satisfactory, 
so  far  as  the  transparency  of  that  part  of  the  eye  is  concerned. 
During  this  examination  the  horse  should  not  be  in  the  open  air, 
but  in  the  stable,  standing  in  the  doorway  and  a  little  within  the 
door.  If  any  small,  faint,  whitish  lines  appear  to  cross  the  cornea 
or  spread  over  any  part  of  it,  they  are  assuredly  the  remains  of 
previous  inflammation ;  or  although  the  center  and  bulk  of  the 
cornea  should  be  perfectly  clear,  yet  if  round  the  edge  of  it, 
where  it  unites  with  the  sclerotica,  there  should  be  a  narrow 


28 


ring  or  circle  of  haziness,  the  conclusion  is  equally  true,  but  the 
inflammation  occurred  at  a  more  distant  period.  Whether,  how¬ 
ever,  the  inflammation  has  lately  existed,  or  several  weeks  or 
months  have  elapsed  since  it  was  subdued,  there  is  every  probabil¬ 
ity  that  it  will  recur.  There  is  one  little  caution  to  be  added. 
The  cornea  in  its  natural  state  is  not  only  a  beautifully  transpar¬ 
ent  body,  but  it  reflects  even  in  proportion  to  its  transparency 
many  of  the  rays  which  fall  upon  it ;  and  if  there  be  a  white  object 
immediately  before  the  eye,  as  a  very  light  waistcoat,  or  much 
display  of  white  neckcloth,  the  reflection  may  puzzle  an  experi¬ 
enced  observer,  and  has  misled  the  careless  one.  The  coat  should 
be  buttoned  up  and  the  white  cravat  carefully  concealed.”  Hieover 
points  out  that  this  difficulty  in  the  detection  of  this  disease — 
cataract — can  be  avoided  by  moving  from  side  to  side,  and 
watching  if  the  supposed  cataract  follow  the  motions  of  the  body, 
which  it  will  do  if  it  be  merely  a  reflection  of  hght  from  the  dress 
of  the  observer. 

A  yellowish  hue  of  the  cornea  indicates  disease  of  the  liver ; 
and  where  this  is  observed  in  the  eye,  the  lips  should  be  turned 
up  and  their  internal  structure  examined.  Where  they  are  found 
of  a  similar  tinge,  you  will  incur  a  great  risk  in  buying  the  horse, 
as  these  symptoms  are  sure  proofs  of  internal  disease,  the  extent 
of  which  you  are  not  capable  of  determining. 

The  annexed  cut  of  the  horse’s  eye  shows  the  situation  of  the 
various  coats,  and  the  manner  in  which  objects  are  viewed  by  the 
animal : 

A  B,  an  object  viewed  by  the  animal ;  a  h,  its  inverted  image  on 
the  retina. 

c  c,  the  points  where  the  rays,  having  passed  the  cornea  and 
lens,  converge  by  the  refractive  power  of  the  lens. 

d  e,  the  rays  proceeding  from  the  extremity  of  the  object  to 
the  eye. 

f,  the  cornea  or  homy  and-ri’ansparent  part  of  the  eye  covered 
by  the  conjunctiva,  uniting -the  different  parts  together. 

g,  the  crystalline  lens  behind  the  pupil,  and  in  front  of  the 
vitreous  humor. 

h  h,  muscles  of  the  eye. 

i,  the  optic  nerve,  or  nerve  of  sight. 


29 


h,  the  sclerotica  covering  the  whole  of  the  eye,  except  the  por¬ 
tion  occupied  by  the  cornea,  and  seeming  a  prolongation  of  the 
covering  of  the  optic  nerve. 

Z,  the  choroides,  receptacle  or  covering,  or  choroid  coat,  covered 
with  a  black  secretion  or  paint. 

m  n,  the  iris  or  rainbow-colored  circular  membrane,  under  the 
cornea,  in  front  of  the  eye,  and  on  which  the  color  of  the  eye 
depends.  The  duplicature  behind  is  the  uvea,  from  being  colored 
like  a  grape.  The  opening  in  the  center  is  the  puph. 


so 


n  n,  the  ciliary,  hair-like  processes. 

o,  the  retina,  or  net-like  expansion  of  the  optic  nerve,  spread 
over  the  whole  choroides  as  far  as  the  lens. 

the  vitreous,  glass-like  humor  filling  the  whole  cavity  of  the 
eye  behind  the  lens. 

g,  the  aqueous,  water-like  humor  filling  the  space  between  the 
cornea  and  lens.  ' 

By  aid  of  this  sketch  and  explanation,  it  will  be  easy  for  any 
intelligent  person  to  follow  the  descriptions  and  explanations 
given  above. 


CHAPTER  III. 


The  Head:  Its  Defects  and  Diseases. — The  Nostrils — The 

Teeth. 

After  the  eyes,  the  next  part  of  the  horse  to  be  examined,  is 
the  nostrils,  which  are  the  seat  of  one  of  the  most  dangerous  and 
terrible  diseases  to  which  the  animal  is  liable — the  “glanders,” — a 
mere  suspicion  of  which  should  absolutely  deter  a  purchaser.  In¬ 
variably  fatal  in  the  end,  the  most  contagious  of  all  possible  dis¬ 
eases,  communicable  equally  to  the  human  being  and  the  brute, 
it  is  impossible  to  effect,  and  useless  to  attempt,  a  cure.  To  nego¬ 
tiate  the  sale  of  a  glandered  horse  is  an  actual  crime,  as  his  mere 
presence  in  a  stable  will  infect  it  with  this  worst  of  pestilences ; 
so  that  every  animal  brought  into  it  will  be  almost  necessarily  a 
victim,  and  that  it  is  considered  by  persons  of  authority  that  the 
only  mode  of  effectually  staying  the  plague  is  the  destruction  of 
the  edifice,  and  even  of  all  the  materials,  as  well  as  the  clothing, 
implements,  and  utensils,  which  it  contained,  or  which  may  have 
been  used  in  contact  with  the  patients. 

With  the  history,  cause,  or  remedies,  vainly  applied,  of  this  dis¬ 
ease  we  have  nothing  to  do,  but  only  to  point  out  its  symptoms, 
the  other  ailments  with  which  it  may  be  confounded,  the  tricks 
resorted  to  by  dishonest  dealers  in  order  to  relieve  it,  and  the 
means  by  which  these  latter  may  be  discovered. 

It  is  manifested  by  a  thin,  glairy,  sticky,  light-colored  discharge 
from  the  nostrils,  or,  if  from  one  only,  then,  almost  invariably  from 
the  left  nostril.  M.  Dupuy,  the  great  French  veterinarian,  states 
that  out  of  eight  hundred  cases  of  glanders  which  he  personally 
examined,  there  was  only  one  instance  in  which  the  right  nostril 


32 


alone  was  aflfected.  It  is  distinguished  from  nasal  gleet,  which  often 
degenerates  into  it,  and  from  the  discharge  of  the  common  catarrhal 
distemper,  to  both  of  which  it  bears  much  resemblance,  by  its  being 
thin,^  glairy,  and  having  a  “pecuhar,  clammy,  bird-limy  feel”  when 
rubbed  between  the  fingers, — which  is,  however,  a  dangerous 
mode  of  testing  it,  and  one  which  is  by  no  means  recommended  to 
our  readers,  since,  if  there  chance  to  be  a  cut  or  abrasion  into 
which  the  matter  is  inoculated,  fatal  consequences  often  ensue. 
This  is  a  point  to  be  observed  in  the  early  stages  of  the  disorder ; 
at  a  later  period,  the  discharge  becomes  purulent,  and  is  often 
stained  with  blood :  it  then  becomes  horribly  ofiensive,  is  accom¬ 
panied  by  swellings  of  the  glands  under* the  jaw,  on  the  side  of 
the  head  which  is  affected,  and,  if  on  both  sides,  then  imme¬ 
diately  adherent  to  the  jaw-bones,  and  not  in  the  center  of  the 
channel.  The  lining  membrane  of  the  nose  assumes  a  dark  purple 
or  lead-colored  hue,  and,  at  a  later  stage,  becomes  ulcerated.  It 
is  a  slow,  insidious,  frightful  contagion,  often  remaining  nearly 
stationary,  accompanied  by  none  of  the  more  aggravated  symptoms, 
until  the  expiration  of  two  or  three  years,  but  is  decidedly  glan¬ 
derous,  and  liable  to  be  propagated  during  the  whole  time.  It  is 
further  distinguished  from  colt-distemper,  or  “strangles,”  by  being 
unaccompanied  by  cough,  which  almost  invariably  attends  the 
former  affection. 

From  nasal  gleet,  which  in  itself  is  a  disorder  on  account  of 
which  a  purchaser  should  decline  a  horse,  as  it  is  troublesome  of 
cure,  filthy,  and  distressing  to  the  animal  while  it  continues — and 
.very  hable  to  terminate  in  glanders — the  disease  may  be  known, 
first,  by  its  thin,  light-colored,  and  sticky  discharge,  and  afterward, 
when  the  two  discharges  become  nearly  identical  in  appearance, 
by  the  loathsome  and  unmistakable  stench  proceeding  from  the 
nasal  ulcers,  and  affecting  the  breath. 

To  discover  this  disease,  if  there  be  no  continuous  discharge — ■ 
and  that  symptom  can  be  occasionally  checked  by  the  rascality  of 
dealers — pinch  the  nostrils  together,  so  as  to  prevent  the  animal 
from  breathing  for  about  a  minute.  On  removing  the  hand,  the 
horse  will  snort ;  and,  if  he  then  blow  out  any  thick,  tenacious 
mucus,  especially  if  it  be  tinged  or  streaked  with  blood,  and  have 
a  fetid  odor,  the  horse  should  be  unquestionably  declined.  If  one 


33 


doubt  the  disease  being  glanders,  and  suspect  merely  strangles,  or 
a  chronic  discharge  consequent  on  that  ailment,  the  horse  may  be 
revisited  after  the  lapse  of  some  weeks,  when,  if  of  no  consequence, 
it  will  have  ceased  entirely.  If  it  remain,  whether  it  be  called 
nasal  gleet,  chronic  catarrhal  discharge,  or  glanders,  the  horse 
must  be  absolutely  declined,  at  whatever  sacrifice  of  price  he  may 
be  offered,  and  however  otherwise  superior  an  animal  he  may 
appear. 

“The  tricks,”  says  Mr.  Youatt,  “to  which  some  dealers  resort 
at  fairs  or  markets,  in  order  to  conceal  the'  existence  of  glanders, 
are  most  infamous,  and  should  be  visited  with  the  severest  penalty 
of  the  law.  Having  given  the  horse  a  brushing  gallop,  that  he  may 
thoroughly  clear  the  nose,  some  of  them  blow  powdered  alum  up 
the  nostrils  a  httle  while  before  he  is  shown ;  others  use  white 
vitriol,  and  although  the  horse  may  be  sadly  tortured — about  which 
they  care  nothing — the  discharge  is,  for  some  hours,  stayed.  Oth¬ 
ers  roll  up  a  pledget  of  tow,  and  introduce  it  into  the  nostrils,  suf¬ 
ficiently  high  to  escape  common  observation.  Both  these  tricks 
may  be  discovered  by  the  uneasiness  of  the  animal,  and  his  re¬ 
peated  efforts  to  sneeze,  as  well  as  by  his  general  appearance ; 
and  if  the  disease  be  far  advanced,  most  assuredly  by  the  red  and 
raw  appearance  of  his  nose,  and  by  the  stinking  breath.” 

The  general  appearance,  alluded  to  above,  consists  in  the  almost 
universal  emaciation  of  the  animal,  the  tucked-up  belly,  and  un¬ 
thrifty  coat — liable  to  come  out  at  the  slightest  touch. 

The  dreadful  nature  of  this  disease  may  be  illustrated  by  the 
following  anecdote,  which  occurred  at  a  small  market-town  in  the 
West  Riding  of  Yorkshire,  within  the  limits  of  the  Bramham-Moor 
Hunt.  A  Leeds  clothier,  of  somewhat  sporting  propensities  and 
sporting  character,  and  not  a  bad  performer  with  fox-hounds,  had 
been  out  on  a  certain  day  distinguished  in  the  morning  by  a  flying 
scent  and  a  sharp  burst  with  fox-hounds,  and  in  the  afternoon 
marked  by  a  cold  mist,  a  slow,  cold  scent,  and  a  long  hunting  run 
which  did  not  terminate  until  near  dark,  when  the  horses  were 
pretty  well  worn  out  and  the  riders  also  very  tired.  It  so  hap¬ 
pened  that  the  homeward  route  of  the  writer  and  that  of  the  Leeds 
clothier  lay  along  the  same  road  until  they  reached  the  well-known 
town  of  Wetherby,  whence  the  one  had  three  miles  to  ride  to  hi# 


84 


own  snug  home,  the  latter  twelve  to  get  through,  with  a  weary 
horse,  to  the  busy  manufacturing  town  of  Leeds.  The  latter,  there¬ 
fore,  announced  his  intention  of  making  a  halt  at  the  Devonshire 
Arms,  to  accommodate  his  jaded  nag  with  a  bucket  of  gruel,  and 
his  own  inner  man  with  a  bottom — as  it  is  technically  termed — of 
brandy.  The  former,  bidding  him  “  G-ood-night!”  and  ^'•Bon  voy¬ 
age!"  went  on  his  way  rejoicing,  and  thought  no  more  about  the 
matter.  In  a  few  days,  however,  passing  that  way,  he  missed  the 
cheery  face  of  the  old  hostler,  and  learned  on  inquiry  that  he  was 
dead.  He  had  been  seized  with  a  strange  disease,  which  no  one 
could  explain,  with  acute  pain  in  the  head,  purulent,  offensive  dis¬ 
charge  from  the  nostrils,  ulceration  of  the  palate,  and  a  speedy 
disorganization  of  the  whole  system,  rapidly  followed  by  death. 
Shortly  afterward,  it  was  whispered  about  that  the  Leeds  clothier 
was  severely  ill,  dying,  dead,  with  a  disease  of  which  the  symp¬ 
toms  exactly  coincided  with  those  of  the  hostler.  Next  in  the 
tale,  first  one  and  then  another  of  the  horses  at  the  Devonshire 
Arms  became  glandered, — the  whole  stable  was  affected;  and  then, 
at  last,  it  came  out  that  the  showy  bay  horse,  which  had  carried 
the  clothier  so  well,  had  been  shot  as  irretrievably  glandered,  four 
days  after  the  death  of  his  owner. 

He  had  bought  him,  a  great  bargain,  that  is  to  say,  at  a  price 
which,  alone,  would  have  sufficed  to  show  any  man,  of  ordinary 
intelligence  in  horse-flesh,  that  he  must  be  irretrievably  amiss,  of 
a  traveling  dealer,  not  many  days  before  his  debut  and  finale 
with  the  Bramham-Moor  Hunt.  He  had  ridden  him  as  described, 
and  while  giving  him  his  gruel,  as  he  stood  to  leeward  of  him, 
the  horse  had  either  merely  breathed  full  into  his  face,  or  had 
snorted  some  of  the  pestilential  purulent  discharge,  so  that  it  had 
alighted  on  the  mucous  membrane  of  his  lip  or  nostril.  The  hostler 
had  been  in  like  manner  affected,  and  the  more  rapidly  that  he 
had  stirred  the  gruel,  while  the  horse  was  slabbering  into  it,  with 
his  bare  hand,  which  was,  by  accident,  scratched  in  several  places 
and  abraded.  It  was  remembered  afterward  by  the  examining 
surgeon  that  the  right  hand  of  the  corpse  was  fearfully  swollen, 
and  evidently  filled  with  foul  purulent  matter.  The  diseased  horse 
had  now  finished  up  his  gruel,  and  the  remnant  had  been  fed  out 
to  the  animals  in  the  inn  stable  from  the  infected  bucket,  whence 


86 


also  it  is  probable  that  they  might  have  been  watered  for  several 
days  without  any  cleansing  of  the  pestilential  pail. 

Thus,  in  this  instance,  were  two  human  beings  sacrificed  to  the 
sordid  rascality  of  a  dealer,  by  the  sale  of  an  animal  which  he 
must  unquestionably  have  known  to  be  incurably  and  most 
dangerously  infected.  It  is  almost  certain  that  some  such  palli¬ 
ative  check  had  been  applied  to  the  purulent  discharge  of  the 
nostrils  as  we  have  noticed  above ;  and  it  is  absolutely  certain, 
that  had  the  purchaser  been  possessed  of  common  sagacity,  he 
would  have  instantly  been  satisfied,  by  the  mere  offer  of  so 
magnificent  looking  an  animal,  and  so  magnificent  a  performer  as 
he  afterward  proved  to  be,  at  a  price  so  totally  and  absurdly  in¬ 
adequate  as  that  at  which  it  subsequently  appeared  that  he  be¬ 
came  the  owner  of  him,  that  something  must  have  been  rotten  in 
the  state  of  Venice.  The  slightest  examination  on  the  plan 
described  above  would  have  revealed  the  infamous  deceit,  and 
would  ultimately,  as  it  turned  out,  have  saved  two  human  lives, 
and  an  incalculable  loss  in  horse-fiesh. 

The  next  point,  after  the  nose  and  nostrils  have  been  thor¬ 
oughly  examined,  and  found  to  be  free  from  disease — for,  if  dis¬ 
eased,  the  animal  is,  of  course,  rejected,  and  further  examination 
rendered  useless — is  the  mouth,  which  will  require  a  thorough 
scrutiny,  not  so  much  on  account  of  the  ailments  to  which  it  or 
the  lips  is  liable,  as  in  relation  to  the  teeth,  by  which  only  can 
that  very  important  point  in  the  economy  of  the  horse,  his  age, 
be  accurately  determined.  The  only  affections  to  which  these 
parts  are  liable  are  those  arising  from  wounds  or  abrasions  of  the 
lips  and  the  comers  of  the  mouth,  owing  to  the  undue  pressure  or 
severity  of  the  bit,  which  sometimes,  if  neglected,  degenerate  into 
cancerous  or  scirrhous  sores.  These  are,  of  course,  readily  per¬ 
ceptible,  and  it  requires  little  skill  or  medical  science  to  distin¬ 
guish  between  a  recent  wound  and  an  established  sore  of  a 
dangerous  nature,  and  in  a  bad  condition.  Generally  such  hurts 
are  of  but  little  consequence,  as  they  are  easily  cured  ;  still  they 
are  worthy  of  some  consideration,  as  the}'-  often  indicate  that 
the  animal  is  a  strong-headed,  hard-mouthed,  boring,  or  star¬ 
gazing  beast,  which  cannot  be  managed  without  unusual  appli¬ 
ances  in  the  shape  of  bits  or  undue  exertion.  Still,  they  should 


be  regarded  only  as  hints  tending  to  create  suspicion,  and  to 
render  desirable  a  thorough  trial  as  to  the  habits  of  the  animal, 
in  this  respect,  when  mounted,  since  they  are,  more  often  than 
otherwise,  the  consequences  of  the  cruelty  and  awkwardness  of 
incapable  servants. 

There  is  a  disease  called  the  lampass,  which  is  simply  a  swel¬ 
ling — to  which  young  horses,  recently  taken  up  from  grass  and 
fed  upon  grain,  are  particularly  liable — of  the  upper  bars  of  the 
palate,  immediately  behind  the  nippers  of  the  upper  jaw.  When 
in  its  worst  stage,  the  bars  are  sometimes  so  much  enlarged  as  to 
reach  the  level,  or  even  rise  above  the  edges  of  the  teeth,  and, 
as  they  are  very  sore,  they  interfere  with  a  horse’s  feeding,  and 
give  him  great  uneasiness.  They  are,  however,  of  no  material 
consequence,  as  they  are  easily  removed  by  a  slight  scarification 
with  a  gum-lancet  or  penknife,  followed  by  the  application  of 
some  slight  astringent,  as  salt  and  vinegar,  and  possibly,  if  there  be 
much  fever,  by  a  slight  dose  of  medicine.  Farmers  of  the  old 
school,  in  their  brutal  ignorance  and  folly,  were  wont  to  torture 
the  unhappy  animals  by  burning  out  these  local  and  casual 
swellings  with  the  actual  cautery — a  proceeding  equally  barbarous 
and  useless. 

It  may  be  well,  however,  while  examining  the  mouth,  to  look 
to  the  condition  of  the  vein  and  artery  of  the  palate,  which  run 
on  either  side  parallel  to  the  jaw-bone,  in  a  line  with  the  middle 
of  the  second  incisor  tooth.  If  this  region  of  the  mouth  exhibit 
the  traces  of  many  cicatrized  wounds,  it  may  be  taken  for 
granted  that  the  horse  has  been  frequently  attacked  by  megrims, 
which  is  an  all-sufficient  reason  for  refusing  to  purchase  him  at 
any  price. 

In  regard  to  the  teeth,  we  shall  confine  ourselves  solely  to  a 
description  of  the  marks  by  which  the  age,  up  to  eight  or  ten 
years,  may  be  pretty  correctly  ascertained,  and  to  indicating  the 
tricks  of  dealers  resorted  to  for  the  purpose  of  causing  the  ani¬ 
mal  to  appear  either  older  or  younger  than  he  really  is,  as  well 
as  the  ages  at  which  these  tricks  are  most  frequently  practiced, 
and’ most  likely  to  be  successful. 

The  anatomical  changes  of  the  mouth  are  of  less  immediate  in¬ 
terest,  and  may  be  left  to  professional  and  scientific  hands. 


38 


“  A  horse  at  five  years  of  age,”  says  Harry  Hieover,  in  his 
clever  book,  “  How  to  Buy  a  Horse,”  “  has  forty  teeth,  of  which 
twenty -four  are  grinders,  situated  far  back  in  the  jaw,  and  with 
which  we  have  little  to  do.  The  teeth  of  the  colt  are  very 
easily  distinguished  from  those  of  the  horse  by  their  peculiar 
whiteness  and  want  of  size.  A  colt,  up  to  the  age  of  three 
years,  has  no  permanent  front  teeth  or  nippers ;  but  there  are 
marks,  especially  about  the  grinders,  by  which  the  difference  of 
age  may  be  ascertained.  Thus,  the  first  grinder,  on  each  side, 
will  be  found  a  permanent  tooth  at  two  years  of  age,  and  the 
general  appearance  of  the  colt,  his  size  and  development  of  mus¬ 
cle,  will  distinguish  him  from  a  yearling.  Moreover,  the  tail  of 
a  yearling  colt  is  curly  and  short  in  comparison  to  that  of  a  two- 
year-old,  at  which  period  the  tail  begins  to  grow  straight,  and  the 
coat  loses  the  rough  appearance  which  it  has  up  to  this  time. 
At  three  years  of  age  the  two  center  nippers  will  have  given 
way  to  the  permanent  teeth,  which  are  larger  and  more  yellow 
than  their  predecessors.  Thus,  a  colt  at  this  period  will  have  in 
front  of  each  jaw  two  permanent  and  two  colt’s  teeth.  A  year 
later  you  will  find  that  two  more  sucking  teeth  have  been  re¬ 
placed  by  the  permanent  or  horse’s  teeth,  and  there  will  then  be 
consequently  four  of  the  latter  and  two  of  the  former  in  front  of 
each  jaw.  The  change  begins  to  take  place  some  months  before 
the  age  of  four  years,  at  which  time  the  growth  of  the  permanent 
teeth  is  complete.  At  this  period,  the  cunning  dealer  draws  the 
remaining  colt’s  teeth,  and  will  pass  off  a  mare  as  being  full 
five  years  old  by  bidding  you  remark  that  she  has  no  colt’s  teeth. 
This  trick  may  be  resorted  to  with  more  or  less  success,  even  at 
an  earlier  age,  so  as  to  give  a  two-year-old  the  appearance  of  a 
three-year-old,  and  a  three  of  a  four-year-old — the  value  of  the 
animal  being  greatly  enhanced  by  the  gain  of  a  year.  The 
principle  on  which  it  is  founded  is  this,  that  the  colt’s  teeth  are 
naturally  displaced  only  when  the  permanent  teeth  rise  so  high 
in  the  jaw  as  to  push  them  out.  The  rising  teeth  are,  of  course, 
kept  back  by  the  superincumbent  colt’s  teeth,  and  when  these 
are  removed,  they  grow  more  rapidly,  and  sooner  come  into 
view.  Upon  a  large,  well-grown,  forward  colt  a  few  months  may 
be  gained  in  this  manner,  and  a  two-and-a-half  passed  off  as  a 


89 


full  three-year-old,  and  so  forward.  A  keen  observer  will,  how¬ 
ever,  see  that  the  teeth,  by  this  forcing  process,  although  they 
may  be  rendered  more  prominent,  are  still  not  of  full  size ;  and 
further,  that  the  development  of  the  animal,  especially  his  fore¬ 
hand,  has  not  kept  pace  with  the  indications  of  his  mouth. 

As  the  period  between  four  and  five  years  is  that  at  which  this 
trick  is  most  generally  practiced,  as  being  the  period  at  which  the 
advantage  of  a  year  gained  is  the  greatest  to  the  purchaser,  it 
is  well  to  point  out  that,  if  it  be  a  mare,  in  which  the  triek  is 
most  applicable,  as  she  has  no  tushes,  which  pierce  the  jaw  of  the 
male  animal  between  the  ages  of  four  and  five,  and  are  conspic¬ 
uous  in  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  year,  the  points  to  observe  are 
the  small  degree  of  wear  visible  in  the  central  pair  of  nippers,  and 
the  small  development  of  the  comer  pair,  which  will  not,  by  any 
forcing  system,  be  brought  fully  up  to  the  level  of  the  other 
nippers,  until  the  mare  shall  be  full  five  years  old.  In  horses,  the 
total  absence  of  the  tushes,  or  their  exceedingly  small  growth, 
in  case  they  have  been — as  they  sometimes  are — also  brought 
forward  by  deep  and  repeated  lancing  of  the  gums,  will,  in  ad¬ 
dition  to  the  other  signs  mentioned  above,  satisfy  an  intelligent 
examiner  of  the  deceit  which  it  has  been  endeavored  to  put  upon 
him.  Further  than  this,  it  is  well  to  know  that — owing  to  the 
circumstance  of  the  upper  jaw  of  a  horse  being  rarely,  if  ever, 
examined  even  by  good  judges — dealers  do  not  in  one  case  out 
of  twenty,  even  where  fraud  is  intended,  attempt  to  practice  on 
the  teeth  except  in  the  lower  jaw,  so  that  a  comparison  of  the 
two  jaws  will  show  an  upper  jaw  indicating  one  age,  whether  it 
be  three,  four,  or  five ;  and  the  lower — which  has  been  doctored 
— giving  an  age  advanced  by  one  year. 

At  worst,  however,  the  gain  is  but  one  of  a  few  months,  and 
the  loss  of  the  purchaser  lies  only  in  the  slightly  enhanced  price 
he  has  paid  for  his  purchase. 

“  At  four  years  and  a  half,”  Hieover  proceeds  to  say,  and  we 
know  no  better  or  more  perspicuous  authority,  “  the  corner  teeth 
are  found  to  have  given  way  to  the  permanent  nippers,  which 
are  fully  developed  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  year ;  and  the 
tush,  which  pushes  through  the  gum  about  the  same  period,  and 
which  is  situated  a  little  posterior  to  the  front  teeth,  is  also  at 


40 


the  same  time  nearly  fully  grown,”  It  is,  it  may  be  here  ob- 
eerved,  with  a  view  to  anticipate  by  six  months,  or  perhaps 
more,  if  the  colt  on  which  it  is  practiced  happen  to  be  a  very 
early  one  of  the  season,  very  forward  in  size,  and  perhaps  forced 
into  premature  development,  that  the  tricks  last  detailed  are 
chiefly  put  in  practice. 

“In  each  corner  permanent  tooth,”  continues  our  author,  “will 
be  remarked  a  deep  depression,  shelving  away  from  the  fore  part 
of  the  tooth  to  the  gum  posteriorly.  Its  color  is  black  or  nearly  so, 
and  this  is  called  the  “mark”  in  a  horse’s  mouth.  Before  six  years 
of  age,  the  tush  is  full  grown,  and  has  a  slight  groove  on  its  inter¬ 
nal  surface,  which  gradually  disappears  with  age,  the  tush  itself 
becoming  more  rounded  and  blunt ;  and  at  six,  the  mark  in  the 
corner  nipper  no  longer  appears  to  dip  down  to  the  gum,  but  looks 
like  a  hole  made  in  the  enamel  of  the  tooth.  This  hole  very  nearly 
disappears  at  the  age  of  seven  years,  especially  in  the  mare,  but 
the  black  mark  still  remains  in  the  center  of  the  tooth,  and  is  not 
totally  filled  up  until  the  horse  be  full  eight  years  old.  At  this 
time  he  is  said  to  be  ‘aged,’  because,  after  this  period,  there  are 
no  certain  and  infallible  marks  by  which  his  age  may  be  deter¬ 
mined.  Nevertheless,  an  acute  observer  will  not  be  very  much 
mistaken  in  this  particular  for  a  year  or  two,  even  after  all  the 
marks  of  the  teeth  are  obliterated.  It  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
give  with  any  degree  of  accuracy  an  account  of  those  appearances 
wliich  lead  a  good  judge  of  horse-flesh  to  make  up  his  mind  ^as  to 
the  probable  age  of  a  horse  after  he  has  turned  his  eighth  year,  as 
nothing  but  experience  can  give  this  acumen  which  to  some  men 
comes  much  more  naturally  than  to  others.  However,  as  far  as 
description  may  avail,  I  shall  endeavor  to  point  out  those  signs  of 
age  which  do  not  altogether  depend  on  mark  of  mouth,  and  obser¬ 
vation  must  do  the  rest. 

“  In  the  first  place,  after  the  age  of  eight  years,  the  teeth,  on  ac¬ 
count  of  the  shrinking  of  the  gums,  begin  to  appear  elongated,  and 
this  increase  in  their  length  augments  yearly,  together  with  other 
constitutional  signs,  which,  when  present  in  a  great  degree,  can 
leave  no  doubt  of  the  antiquity  of  their  possessor.  Of  these  I  shall 
speak  presently.  Many  people  insist  that  the  marks  in  the  nippers 
of  the  upper  jaw  remain  longer  than  in  those  of  the  lower,  owing 


41 


to  the  former  being  a  fixed  point  upon  which  the  latter  is  moved. 
Of  this  I  am  not  prepared  to  say  any  thing,  as  I  have  always  sat¬ 
isfied  myself  with  the  appearances  I  have  already  described,  and 
those  I  have  stiU  to  mention.  As  the  age  of  a  horse  increases, 
the  teeth,  in  addition  to  becoming  longer,  lose  their  upright  posi¬ 
tion  and  project  forward,  the  upper  teeth  more  particularly.  They 
assume,  also,  an  arched  form,  and  frequently  become  so  prominent 
as  to  bo  much  in  advance  of  the  teeth  of  the  lower  jaw.  The  ridges 
in  the  soft  palate  also  become  nearly  obliterated;  the  muscles 
shrink,  particularly  about  the  jaws  and  neck;  there  is  a  deep  pit 
above  either  eye ;  the  back  becomes  hollow ;  and  the  posterior  lip 
falls  away  from  the  jaw,  or  hangs  much  lower  than  its  fellow. 
Gray  hairs  begin  to  be  found  sprinkled  here  and  there  about  the 
dark-colored  horse,  especially  about  the  face  and  often  in  the  mane, 
and  the  naturally  gray  horse  becomes  white.  Added  to  this,  there 
is  an  expression  about  the  countenance,  which  speaks  of  labor  done 
and  by-gone  years,  which  it  is  as  impossible  to  mistake  as  it  is  to 
describe.  When  all  or  most  of  these  signs  are  combined  in  a 
horse,  I  would  say  '•Rune  tu  cavetoT  for  a  very  old  horse  is  a  very 
bad  subject  for  speculation.  Your  trouble  in  endeavoring  to  put 
him  into  condition  will,  with  your  corn,  be  quite  thrown  away; 
and,  perhaps,  before  you  can  get  back  your  purchase-money,  the 
ravenous  stomachs  of  a  pack  of  fox-hounds  will  have  afforded  a 
grave  to  the  mortal  remains  of  your  venerable  quadruped. 

“  It  is  always  necessary  to  examine  the  physical  signs  of  age 
generally  in  the  horse,  in  addition  to  those  furnished  by  the  teeth; 
for,  of  course,  the  appearances  of  youth  adding  considerably  to  his 
value,  have  in  some  measure  been  imitated  by  the  tricks  of  the 
fraternity,  and  principally  in  the  following  way.  When  the  marks 
are  obliterated  from  the  teeth,  they  are,  to  some  extent,  repro¬ 
duced  by  the  aid  of  a  graving  instrument,  and  the  rasp  speedily 
reduces  their  length.  A  hot  iron  is  afterward  introduced  into  the 
hollow  made  in  the  comer  teeth,  in  order  to  occasion  a  blackish 
mark ;  but  this  is  seldom  effected  in  a  natural  manner,  for  the 
mark  is  of  a  brownish  hue,  and,  moreover,  a  ring  of  a  lighter  brown 
encircling  it  is  occasioned  by  the  heat  of  the  instrument  employed. 
This  operation  has  received  the  name  of  ‘Bishoping,’  why,  I 
cannot  say,  unless  their  reverences  are  supposed  to  stand  a  good 


42 


chance  of  becoming  familiar  with  hot  iron.  J ust  before  a  bishoped* 
horse  is  shown,  it  is  usual  to  give  him  a  few  hard  beans,  the  chew¬ 
ing  of  wliich  produces  a  deal  of  saliva,  which  prevents,  in  some 
instances,  the  detection  of  the  imposition  that  has  been  practiced. 

“  In  addition  to  this,  a  very  small  incision  is  made  in  the  skin 
of  the  pit  above  the  eye,  and  a  blow-pipe  being  introduced,  the 
cellular  membrane  is  inflated  until  the  hollows  nearly  disappear, 
after  which  the  skin  is  pinched,  or  some  adhesive  matter  placed  on 
the  incised  part,  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the  air. 

“  When  a  low  dealer  cannot  get  at  the  tools  needful  for  these 
artiflces,  or  is  not  expert  in  their  use,  the  most  common  trick 
played  is  the  following.  He  stands  by  the  horse  in  his  stall,  takes 
hold  of  his  mouth,  and  then  with  one  hand  immediately  strikes  him 
on  the  lips.  •  This  causes  the  horse  to  jerk  up  his  head,  and  the 
manoeuvre  is  repeated  until  he  will  not  allow  his  mouth  to  be 
touched.  If,  by  coaxing  and  gentle  treatment,  you  prevail  on  the 
horse  to  let  you  handle  his  head,  a  menace  of  the  whip,  scarcely 
perceived  by  you,  sets  the  horse  dancing  immediately,  for  every 
dealer’s  horse  is  quite  as  well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  a  thong 
as  the  whip-maker  who  manufactured  it.  The  dealer’s  man,  at  last 
seeing  you  bent  on  examining  the  mouth,  succeeds  in  laying  hold 
of  the  nose  with  one  hand,  and  with  the  other  pretending  to  coax 
him  and  get  his  head  down,  slips  the  tip  of  his  finger  into  the 
horse’s  eye,  just  as  you  are  about  to  commence  your  inspection,  and 
away  goes  the  horse’s  head  into  the  air  immediately. 

“All  this  while,  both  the  master  and  the  man  are  assuring  you, 
wdth  many  oaths,  that  the  horse  is  just  six  years  old — for,  be  it 
known,  no  dealer  ever  yet  sold  a  horse  of  greater  age — and  at  last, 
perhaps,  wearied  out  with  your  efforts,  you  are  content  to  take  their 
word  on  the  very  slight  chance  of  their  telling  the  truth  for  once. 
If,  however,  they  acknowledge  to  seven  years  old,  be  assured  the 
horse  is  aged,  and  perhaps  five  or  six  years  older  than  he  is  repre¬ 
sented  to  be.  You  must,  therefore,  note  the  other  signs  of  age 
which  I  have  enumerated ;  and  I  should  strenuously  advise  you  to 
tell  the  dealer,  quietly,  that  you  will  see  the  horse’s  mouth,  even  if 

*  This  name  is  derived  from  the  name  of  an  English  body-snatching  mis¬ 
creant,  Bishop,  who  used  to  sell  the  teeth  of  his  murdered  or  exhumed  coipsea 
to  dentists,  for  the  refitting  up  of  old  mouths. 


44 


it  be  necessary  to  apply  the  twitch  for  that  purpose,  and  if  he  still 
throws  any  objection  in  your  way,  say  at  once  that  if  you  cannot 
inspect  his  teeth,  he  will  not  suit  you.  This  wiU  never  fail  to  bring 
your  man  to  his  senses,  particularly  when  he  sees  that  he  has  not 
a  flat  to  deal  with.” 

In  addition  to  the  above,  we  have  only  to  say  that  as  the  knowl¬ 
edge  of  the  marks  of  a  horse’s  mouth,  and  a  correct  appreciation  of 
all  its  indications,  so  as  to  form  an  absolute  decision  of  the  animal’s 
age  if  under  seven  years,  and  a  tolerably  close  approximation  to 
it,  if  he  be  above  that  turning-point,  are  only  attainable  as  the  con¬ 
sequences  of  long  experience,  and  are  rarely,  in  this  country,  at 
least,  possessed  by  amateur  equestrians,  the  young  and  raw  buyer 
will  find  his  gain  in  being  accompanied  by  a  friend,  whether  pro¬ 
fessional  or  unprofessional,  who  is  perfectly  up  to  trap,  and  on  the 
honesty  of  whose  opinion  and  counsel  he  can  rely.  If  he  know  no 
such  person,  then  let  him  by  all  means  take  the  opinion  of  a  vet¬ 
erinary  surgeon,  choosing  one  who,  he  is  pretty  well  assured,  has 
no  connection  with  his  seller,  and  paying  him  liberally  for  his 
opinion,  be  it  what  it  may.  And  here  we  have  done  with  the  head 
of  the  horse,  how  it  should  be  formed,  how  set  on,  what  is  likely 
to  ail  it,  how  the  ailments  can  be  detected,  and  what  it  indicates 
in  all  the  circumstances  under  which  it  has  indications  to  afford. 

Hence  we  proceed  to  the  diseases  of  the  neck,  throat,  and  chest, 
with  which  we  shall  conclude  this  part,  reserving  the  trank  and 
locomotive  system,  on  which  almost  aU  the  value  of  the  animal  may 
be  said  to  rest,  to  our  second  number,  in  the  course  of  which  we 
hope  to  give  such  conclusive  information  as  will  put  all  our  readers 
sufficiently  on  their  guard  against  all'  the  tricks  and  traps  of  the 
trade. 


CHAPTER  lY. 


The  Neck  and  its  Diseases. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  formation  of  the  neck,  which 
is  indispensable  to  a  horse,  to  be  used  for  purposes  of  pleasure, 
whether  for  beauty  or  for  the  comfort  of  the  owner  who  drives  or 
rides  him.  No  horse  can  be  a  pleasant  traveler,  or  can  have  what 
is  known  as  a  good  mouth,  whose  neck  is  not  formed  with  such 
a  curvature  as  to  allow  the  nose  to  come  down  and  the  chin  to 
come  in  toward  the  chest,  under  the  influence  of  the  bit ;  and  it 
is  worthy  of  observation  that  this  formation  of  the  neck,  which 
causes  the  windpipe  to  assume  the  form  of  a  concave  arch,  is 
much  more  favorable  to  respiration  than  the  converse,  and  that 
horses  so  constituted  are  far  less  liable  than  others  to  those  dis¬ 
agreeable  and  dangerous  diseases  of  the  trachea,  known  to  horse¬ 
men  under  the  kindred  names  of  “piping,”  “whistling,”  “  grunt¬ 
ing,”  and  “roaring,”  which,  although  not  so  fatal  as  broken  wind, 
or,  as  it  is  here  generally  called,  “  the  heaves,”  are  yet  extreme 
drawbacks  to  the  value  of  a  horse,  especially  if  he  is  to  be  ap¬ 
plied  to  fast  work,  and  should,  in  our  opinion,  cause  liis  instant 
rejection. 

In  examining  the  neck  of  a  horse,  the  first  thing  is  to  pass  the 
hand  along  the  course  of  the  principal  vein,  which  runs  along  the 
hollow  parallel  to  the  crest  at  about  the  lower  third  of  the  neck. 
Puffy  swellings  along  the  course  of  the  veins,  and  absorbent 
vessels,  are  one  of  the  symptoms  of  a  farey,  a  disease  nearly 
identical  with  glanders,  and  often  degenerating  into  it.  Some¬ 
times  the  vein  will  be  found  to  be  almost  entirely  obliterated 
from  inflammation  consequent  on  constant  bleedings,  and  this  is, 


46 


by  many  persons,  considered  a  most  serious  evil.  It  is  not  so, 
however,  unless  there  be  much  pufl&ness  above  the  spot  at  which 
the  vein  appears  to  be  obliterated,  since,  where  that  symptom  does 
not  exist,  it  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  the  neighboring  and 
anastomozing  vessels  have  become  sufficiently  enlarged  to  carry 
on  the  circulation.  Still,  the  symptom  is  a  bad  one,  as  it  indicates 
that  the  horse  has  at  some  time  been  severely  bled,  as  do  also,  in 
a  less  degree,  if  they  be  found,  the  frequent  marks  of  venesection, 
even  where  the  vein  itself  is  in  its  natural  condition ;  and,  inas¬ 
much  as  bleedings  are  resorted  to  chiefly  for  the  treatment  of 
dangerous  and  acute  inflammatory  diseases,  such  as  inflammation 
of  the  lungs  or  of  the  bowels,  which  are  particularly  apt  to  recur, 
and,  indeed,  to  become  almost  chronic  in  animals  which  they 
have  once  or  twice  attacked,  it  is  not  advisable  to  purchase  a 
horse  showing  by  the  marks  described  above  that  he  has,  at  some 
time  or  other,  been  subjected  to  frequent  bleedings. 

Having  in  this  manner,  and  thus  far,  examined  a  horse 
which  one  may  think  of  buying,  the  next  thing  is  to  ascertain  the 
state  of  his  wind,  and  of  his  breathing  apparatus  in  general, 
which  is,  in  fact,  of  all  others  the  most  important  point  as  regards 
the  utility  of  the  horse — for,  in  fact,  whatever  may  be  the  other 
beauties,  excellencies,  or  qualifications  of  a  horse — figure,  struc¬ 
ture,  action,  legs,  spirit,  speed — if  he  have  not  wind,  all  the  rest 
are  useless.  He  can  neither  go  the  pace,  nor  endure;  he  can 
neither  make  sudden,  nor  sustain  continuous  exertions.  Besides 
this,  affections  of  the  wind  are  not  only  incurable,  but  they  are  con¬ 
tinually  growing  worse  and  worse.  On  no  possible  account,  for 
no  considerable  amount  of  other  good  qualities,  for  no  temptation 
of  cheapness,  should  any  one  be  tempted  into  buying  a  horse 
afflicted  with  any  disease  whatever,  either  of  the  lungs  themselves 
or  the  air-passages. 

“  There  are  several  complaints,”  says  the  writer  we  have  quoted 
above,  “  affecting  the  air-passages  with  which  it  is  absolutely  ne¬ 
cessary  to  be  acquainted  before  you  attempt  to  buy  a  horse  on 
your  own  judgment.  The  principal  of  these  are  ‘  broken- wind,’ 
‘roaring,’  ‘whistling,’  and  ‘piping,’  to  which  I  shall  take  the 
liberty  of  adding  another,  which  I  must  denominate  ‘  gulping,’  as 
I  know  no  other  term  by  wliich  I  can  better  express  it.  I  shall 


47 


not  attempt  any  explanation  of  this  extraordinary  trick,  which  has 
never  yet  been  noticed  by  any  one,  but  have  only  to  say  that  I 
have  met  with  two  horses  that,  on  being  ridden  fast,  appeared 
every  now  and  then  to  give  a  sort  of  convulsive  gulp,  somewhat 
approaching  to  a  hiccough ;  and  as  neither  of  them  was  remark¬ 
able  for  good  wind,  it  is  not  impossible  that  this  singular  noise 
may  have  been  the  precursor  of  some  more  serious  evil.  As  I 
neither  purchased  the  one  nor  the  other,  I  cannot  say  whether 
they  eventually  turned  out  decidedly  unsound  in  the  wind ;  nor 
should  I  like  to  hazard  the  experiment  of  buying  a  horse  with 
this  habit,  to  call  it  by  no  worse  name,  at  a  sound  price. 

“  Dealers  always  judge  of  a  horse’s  wind  by  the  sound  of  the 
cough  which  they  produce  by  pinching  the  windpipe,  just  behind 
the  jaw.” 

It  is  for  this  reason  that,  although  broken- wind  is  a  complaint, 
properly  speaking,  of  the  lungs  and  chest,  not  of  the  neck,  throat, 
or  windpipe,  we  notice  it  in  this  place,  rather  than  under  the 
head  of  ailments  of  the  trunk  to  which  it  more  properly  belongs. 
If  a  horse,  when  he  is  pinched  in  this  place,  utters  one  shrill,  de¬ 
finite  cough,  his  wdnd  may  be  presumed  to  be  good;  if,  on  the 
contrary,  the  cough  be  short,  hollow,  rattling,  easily  provoked  by 
slight  pressure  on  the  windpipe  and  frequently  repeated,  he  may 
be  set  down  at  once  as  diseased  or  unsound  in  the  lungs.  With 
respect  to  testing  a  horse  in  this  manner,  however,  though  it  is 
not  a  bad  plan  by  which  to  commence  your  diagnosis,  it  is  well 
to  say  that  the  examiner  should  always  be  particular  to  cough  the 
horse,  as  it  is  termed,  himself,  and  not  trust  the  dealer  to  do  it; 
for  these  gentry  have  a  trick,  even  in  this  simple  operation,  by 
which  the  sound  of  the  cough  may  be  considerably  altered,  and 
the  imperfection  made  to  appear  much  less  than  it  really  is.  This 
is  done  by  forcibly  compressing  the  windpipe  with  one  hand  and 
the  fore-finger  of  the  other,  by  which  it  is  contrived  that  the 
horse  shall  cough,  while  the  windpipe  is  kept  in  that  state,  and 
the  air,  which  is  thus  made  to  pass  through  a  very  narrow  aper¬ 
ture,  makes  the  shrill  noise,  which  is  esteemed  the  sign  of  a 
good  wind.  Tliis,  however,  is  not  always  to  be  done,  and  a 
broken- winded  horse  will,  after  all  pressure  is  removed,  continue 
to  cough  short — much  in  the  way  that  a  sheep  with  unsound  lungs 


48 


may  be  heard  to  cough  on  a  cold  night — and  thus  make  his  dis¬ 
ease  clearly  manifest. 

We  shall  not  in  this  place  dwell  on  the  further  examination, 
which  is  resorted  to  by  good  judges,  in  order  to  determine  whether 
a  horse  is  broken-winded  or  not,  since  these  apply  either  to 
symptoms  manifested  by  the  animal,  on  being  put  to  work,  or  to 
indications  given  by  the  muscular  movements  of  other  parts  than 
the  neck. 

“Areally  broken-winded  horse,”  says  Harry  Hieover,  “will 
generally  make  some  noise  like  panting  or  blowing,  when  he  is 
ridden  fast ;  but  there  are  many  horses  that  are  slightly  touched 
in  the  wind  that  are  perfectly  competent  to  do  a  good  deal  of 
work  not  requiring  rapid  motion.  Mares  that  are  broken-winded 
are  said  to  be  barren ;  therefore  take  care  in  buying  a  brood-mare, 
that  her  lungs  be  perfectly  sound.  When  you  have  examined  the 
state  of  the  wind,  in  the  manner  I  have  pointed  out,  you  may 
next  proceed  to  determine  whether  your  horse  be  a  roarer,  whist¬ 
ler,  or  piper.” 

We  now  proceed  to  give  briefly  from  Touatt’s  work  on  the  horse 
his  account  of  these  ailments. 

“The  larynx,”  he  says,  “and  upper  part  of  the  windpipe  are 
subject  to  various  diseases.  The  flrst  we  shall  mention  is  roaring, 
so  called  from  a  peculiar  sound  uttered  by  the  horse  when  briskly 
trotted  or  galloped,  particularly  up  hiU.  In  moderate  exercise 
it  is  scarcely  or  not  at  all  perceived ;  but  when  the  animal  is  in 
brisk  exercise,  it  may  be  heard  at  the  distance  of  several  yards. 
It  may  be  easily  detected  by  striking  the  horse  suddenly,  or  even 
threatening  him  with  a  stick,  when  he  wfll  utter  a  singular  grunt 
or  groan. 

“  It  usually  is  explained  as  the  consequence  of  inflammation 
of  the  part.  A  fluid,  rapidly  changing  into  a  tough,  viscid  sub¬ 
stance  is  thrown  out,  and  adheres  to  the  sides  of  the  larynx  and 
upper  part  of  the  windpipe,  materially  obstructing  the  passage, 
and  sometimes  running  across  it  in  bands.  When  the  horse  is 
blown,  or  his  breathing  much  hurried,  the  air  whistles  through 
these  obstructions.  We  believe  this  to  be  the  most  general  cause 
of  the  disease,  and  a  roarer  is  evidently  unsound,  for  he  is  incapa¬ 
ble  of  the  exertion  which  may  not  only  bo  occasionally  but 


49 


ordinarily  required  of  him.  Roaring,”  he  proceeds,  “  is  no  un¬ 
usual  consequence  of  the  strangles.  A  more  frequent  cause, 
however,  and  generally  unsuspected,  is  tight  reining.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  many  more  carriage-horses  become  roarers  than 
of  those  that  are  used  for  the  saddle  alone ;  and  the  explanation 
of  this  at  once  presents  itself  in  the  continued  and  painful  pres¬ 
sure  on  these  parts,  caused  by  reining  in  the  carriage-horse  and 
teaching  him  to  bear  himself  well.” 

"We  confess,  ourselves,  to  having  great  doubts  as  to  the  fact  last 
stated,  and  as  to  the  causes  alleged.  It  was  observed  by  that 
distinguished  turf  and  sporting  writer,  “Nimrod,”  that  the  affec¬ 
tions  known  as  roaring,  whistling,  wheezing,  piping,  &c.,  were  all 
new,  or,  at  least,  comparatively  new  to  the  farrier,  and  that  their 
very  nomenclature  is  new  in  the  stable  vocabulary.  He  con¬ 
siders  the  increase  of  these  affections  to  be  entirely  consequent 
on  the  increase  of  pace  in  galloping,  rather  than  in  any  other 
action,  and  in  the  hunting-field ;  and  he  asserts — and  that  in  our 
opinion  quite  correctly — that  hunters  are  more  subject  to  this 
affection  than  any  other  class  of  horses.  It  is  remarkable — and  it 
certainly  tends  to  strengthen  this  opinion  of  Nimrod’s,  that  the 
affection  called  roaring  chiefly  affects  gallopers — that  this  dis¬ 
ease  and  all  its  modifications — although  we  should  not  say  that 
American  horses  were  by  any  means  more  free  from  diseases  of 
the  wind  proper  than  those  of  any  other  country — are  far  rarer 
on  this  continent  than  in  Europe,  and,  as  far  as  we  should  judge, 
more  common  in  England. 

The  affection  is  clearly  hereditary,  and  it  is  sufficient  reason  why 
a  good  judge  should  decline  to  breed  from  any  stallion  that  is 
affected  with  this  complaint,  as  he  is  almost  sure  to  transmit  it  to 
his  posterity.  It  does  not  affect  all  horses  equally,  nor  is  it 
equally  dangerous  or  troublesome  in  all.  "We  have  seen  hunters 
go  very  well,  in  good  form  and  in  a  good  place  with  hounds, 
tlirough  deep  country,  and  having  a  heavy  weight  on  their  backs, 
through  a  long  and  fast  run,  making  all  the  wlule  a  roaring  noise, 
little  inferior  to  that  of  a  locomotive.  We  have  seen  at  least 
one  race-horse,  a  confirmed  roarer,  run  a  constant  and  good 
winner. 

Such  a  horse  was  “  Humphrey  Clinker,”  the  property  of  the  old 


60 


Lord  Fitzwilliam,  the  grandfather  of  the  present  occupant  of  that 
title,  who  was  in  his  day — about  1830 — the  best  four-mile  horse  in 
England.  He  was  well  known  in  the  North  of  England,  and 
with  the  sporting  Yorkshire  farmers  was  as  great  a  favorite  as  was 
“  Old  Whitenose”  here,  on  account  of  his  indomitable  pluck  and 
ability  to  stay  a  distance ;  yet  he  roared  so  prodigiously  that  he 
might,  literally,  be  heard  half  way  across  the  Doncaster  course. 
Now,  it  is  clear  that  in  these  instances  the  obstruction  to  the 
passage  of  the  air,  however  unpleasant  or  even  painful  to  the 
animal,  was  insufiBcient  to  affect  his  pace  or  his  powers  of  en¬ 
durance.  On  another  occasion,  we  have  seen  a  roarer,  after  going 
a  little  way,  particularly  up  hill,  at  his  pace,  brought  to  a  dead 
stand-still,  and  apparently  on  the  point  of  choking  to  death. 

Indisputably,  it  is  an  unsoundness  of  a  bad  order;  it  is  incurable , 
and  a  horse,  warranted  sound,  can  be  returned  on  proof  of  his 
being  a  roarer^  and  his  price  is  recoverable  at  law. 

“Thick  wind  and  broken  wind,”  Touatt  proceeds,  “exist  in 
various  degrees  and  many  shades  of  difference.  Dealers  and 
horsemen  generally  have  characterized  them  by  names  that  can 
boast  no  elegance,  but  are  considerably  expressive  of  the  state 
of  the  animal.  Our  readers  should  not  be  ignorant  of  them. 
Some  horses  make  a  shrill  noise  when  in  quick  action — these  are 
said  to  be  Pipers.  Tliis  is  a  kind  of  roaring.  There  is  usually 
a  ring  of  coagulated  matter  round  the  inside  of  the  windpipe, 
by  which  the  cavity  is  materially  diminished,  and  the  sound  pro¬ 
duced  in  quick  breathing  must  evidently  be  shriller.  Sometimes 
the  piping  is  produced  by  a  contraction  of  the  small  passages  of 
the  lungs. 

“The  wheezer  utters  a  sound  not  unlike  that  of  an  asthmatic 
person  when  a  little  hurried.  This  is  a  kind  of  thick  wind,  and 
is  caused  by  the  lodgment  of  some  mucous  fluid  in  the  small 
passages  of  the  lungs.  It  frequently  accompanies  bronchitis. 
Wheezing  can  be  heard  at  all  times,  even  when  the  horse  is  at  rest  in 
his  stable.  Roaring  is  confined  to  the  increased  breathing  of  con¬ 
siderable  exertion. 

“  The  whistler  utters  a  shriller  sound  than  the  wheezer,  but  only 
when  in  exercise,  and  that  of  some  continuance.  A  sudden 
motion  will  not  always  produce  it.  It  seems  referable  to  some 


51 


great  contraction  in  the  windpipe  or  larynx.  The  sound  is  a  great 
nuisance  to  the  rider,  and  the  whistler  will  speedily  become  dis¬ 
tressed.  A  sharp  gaUop  up  lull  will  speedily  detect  the  whistler. 

“  When  the  obstruction  seems  to  be  principally  in  the  nose,  the 
horse  loudly  pufifs  and  blows,  and  the  nostrils  are  dilated  to  the 
utmost,  while  the  flanks  are  apparently  quiet.  This  animal  is 
said  to  be  a  high-blower.  With  all  his  apparent  distress,  he 
often  possesses  great  speed  and  endurance.  The  sound  is  un¬ 
pleasant,  but  the  lungs  may  be  perfectly  sound.” 

It  certainly  would  not  be  safe  to  trust  to  the  meaning  conveyed 
in  the  last  sense.  The  lungs  of  a  horse,  making  such  a  noise, 
may,  it  is  quite  true,  be  perfectly  sound ;  but  to  say  the  least,  the 
chances  are  very  much  against  it ;  and  to  buy  a  horse  notoriously 
making  any  of  the  abnormal  noises  in  breathing,  which  are  de¬ 
scribed  above,  in  the  hope  of  liis  proving  sound,  would  be  as 
thorough  a  piece  of  folly  as  to  buy  a  house  or  a  ship  known  to  be 
affected  with  the  dry  rot,  and  to  expect  good  service  of  it. 

“  Every  horse,”  continues  Mr.  Youatt,  “  violently  exercised  on 
a  full  stomach,  or  when  overloaded  with  fat,  will  grunt  very  much 
like  a  hog.  The  pressure  of  the  stomach  on  the  lungs,  or  that  of  the 
fat  accumulated  about  the  heart,  will  so  much  impede  the  breath¬ 
ing,  that  the  act  of  forcible  expiration  will  be  accompanied  by 
this  kind  of  sound ;  but  there  are  some  horses  who  will  always 
utter  it,  if  touched  suddenly  with  the  whip  or  spur.  They  are 
called  Grunters,  and  should  be  avoided.  There  is  some  altered 
structure  of  the  lungs  which  prevents  them  from  suddenly  ac¬ 
commodating  themselves  to  an  unexpected  demand  for  exertion. 
It  is  the  consequence  of  previous  disease,  and  is  frequently  followed 
by  thick  or  broken  wind,  or  roaring.” 

We  now  come  to  the  means  for  detecting  these  affections. 

“For  this  purpose  place  the  horse,”  says  Hieover,  '‘against  a 
wall,  or  on  one  side  of  his  stall,  take  hold  of  his  bridle  or  head-stall 
near  his  mouth,  and  hold  his  head  high ;  then  suddenly  give  him 
a  smart  punch  in  the  ribs  with  your  doubled  fist,  or  strike  him 
tliree  or  four  times  under  the  belly  sharply  with  a  stick,  and  if.  he 
gives  a  grunt  at  each  blow,  he  is  a  roarer;  whereas,  if,  after  jump¬ 
ing  about  from  the  blows  he  receives,  you  hear  him  sobbing,  as 
it  were,  and  drawing  his  breath  quickly,  the  chances  are  he  is  a 


62 


piper  or  whistler.  Some  people  use  these  two  terms  synonymously, 
while  others,  again,  employ  them  as  denoting  different  degrees  of 
the  same  complaint,  distinguished  only  by  the  peculiarity  of  the 
noise  made  in  each.  I  believe  the  sobbing  horse  to  be  the  piper, 
and  suppose  him  to  be  worse  than  the  horse  which  merely  seems 
to  blow  hard  on  going  fast.  Some  horses  have  a  trick  of  making 
a  noise  with  their  nostrils,  like  a  very  loud  purring,  at  every  stroke 
of  their  gallop.  This  must  by  no  means  be  mistaken  for  whistling, 
which  merely  resembles,  but  in  a  greater  degree,  the  very  hard 
breathing  of  some  people,  who  all  but  snore  in  their  sleep,  or  who 
have  a  violent  cold  in  their  head.  Now,  you  will  occasionally 
find  horses  that,  from  ossification  of  the  cartilages  at  the  top  of 
the  windpipe,  arising  possibly  from  this  tube  being  constantly  and 
violently  compressed  by  dealers  essaying  their  wind,  or  from  the 
sensibility  of  these  parts  being  greatly  diminished,  cannot  be  made 
to  cough  at  all.  Some  roarers  are  of  this  kind;  and  where  you 
find  this  to  be  the  case,  you  must  even  trust  to  the  other  symp¬ 
toms  of  unsound  wind,  and  to  a  good,  rattling  gallop,  where  you 
can  get  one,  as  a  test  of  good  or  bad  lungs.  Roaring  is  not 
always  a  disease  of  the  lungs” — we  are  disposed  to  say  that  it 
never  is — “  but  generally  proceeds  from  some  change  in  the  struc¬ 
ture  of  the  windpipe,  as  distortions  of  that  part,  and  constriction 
of  some  portion  of  the  tube  from  permanent  thickening  of  the 
lining  membrane  consequent  upon  inflammation.  Hence,  num¬ 
bers  of  horses  turn  roarers  after  having  had  the  influenza  or  dis¬ 
temper,  which  has  been  so  prevalent  at  certain  seasons  for  some 
years ;  and  not  a  few  are  rendered  such  by  restraining  the  head 
by  a  tight  bearing  rein.  Sometimes  a  horse  that  roars  in  a  very 
slight  degree  will  not  grunt  on  being  struck,  in  which  case  you 
may  make  a  man  gallop  him  smartly,  and  then  pull  him  short  up 
close  to  you  without  giving  him  time  to  recover  his  wind ;  on 
listening  attentively  you  will  soon  be  able  to  detect  any  impedi¬ 
ment  to  his  breathing  freely.  Some  horses  are  said  to  have  been 
cured  of  roaring  by  keeping  their  heads  constantly  tied  up  very 
high ;  but  whether  this  be  true  or  not,  I  will  not  pretend  to  say. 
In  a  recent  case  of  thickening  of  the  lining  membrane  of  the 
windpipe,  I  can  conceive  that  such  a  mode  of  treatment,  by  dis¬ 
gorging  the  blood-vessels  of  the  affected  part,  may  be  beneficial ; 


53 


but  as  I  believe  that  no  remedy  whatever  has  yet  been  found 
generally  successful  in  this  complaint,  my  advice  is,  never  to  pur¬ 
chase  a  roarer  in  the  hope  of  curing  him.  I  have  also  heard  of 
horses  on  whom  the  operation  of  tracheotomy — which  consists  in 
making  an  artificial  opening  into  the  windpipe — has  obviated  the 
effects  of  roaring ;  but  I  believe  these  cases  to  be  very  rare,  and 
their  good  effects  probably  exaggerated,  as  most  people  are  prone 
to  laud  whatever  is  extraordinary.  Besides,  the  very  existence 
of  such  an  opening  exposes  the  horse  to  the  danger  of  inhaling 
small  and  light  substances,  such  as  hay-seeds,  dust,  &c,,  which, 
by  irritating  the  lungs,  may  occasion  a  disease  worse  than  that  for 
which  the  operation  was  practiced.” 

The  operation  of  tracheotomy,  as  we  have  seen  it  performed, 
and  known  it,  in  one  or  two  instances,  to  be  moderately  success¬ 
ful,  differs  entirely  from  that  alluded  to  in  the  above  quotation. 
It  does  not  consist  in  making  a  permanent  opening  in  the  wind¬ 
pipe,  but  in  opening  it  sufficiently  to  dissect  and  extract  the 
thickened  part  of  the  lining  membrane  which  has  produced  a 
stricture,  and  which  is  supposed  to  be  the  cause  of  the  roaring. 

After  the  excision  of  the  membrane,  the  wound  is  closed  as 
usual.  We  have  known,  we  say,  one  or  two  instances  of  this 
kind  successful;  but  the  danger  and  expense  are  both  consider¬ 
able,  the  risk  of  not  succeeding  is  more  considerable  yet;  and,  on 
the  whole,  we  should  say  that  the  only  occasion  on  which  we 
should  think  of  having  recourse  to  it  would  be  in  case  of  happen¬ 
ing  to  possess  an  animal  of  otherwise  rare  qualities,  but  rendered 
nearly  valueless  by  this  defect,  and  desiring  to  endeavor,  at  least, 
by  any  possible  means  to  relieve  and  restore  him.  Even  then  we 
should  consider  the  odds  as  fifty  to  one  at  least  against  the  tryer. 

“  It  may  not  be  amiss  here  to  mention,”  says  Hieover,  and  cer¬ 
tainly  it  is  one  of  the  most  curious  and  inexplicable  of  tricks, 
“  that  a  low  dealer  who  sends  a  roarer  up  to  auction,  where  they 
take  them  in  on  the  morning  of  sale,  will  give  him  a  quantity  of 
shot  mixed  with  tallow,  and  this,  extraordinary  as  it  may  appear, 
and  difficult  as  it  is  to  account  for  physiologically,  will  prevent  the 
horse  from  showing  the  usual  symptoms  of  roaring  for  some  hours, 
until  the  shot  pass  into  the  intestines.” 

There  is,  of  course,  no  mode  of  detecting  this  trick  on  the  spot 


55 


The  only  method  is,  if  one  buy  at  an  auction,  which  is,  at  best,  a 
verj^  risky  plan,  never  to  buy  unless  on  a  guarantee  of  soundness 
for  twenty-four  hours,  the  purchase-money  to  be  held  in  the  mean¬ 
time  by  the  auctioneer,  and  to  be  returned  on  the  detection  of 
unsoundness,  or  on  the  unfavorable  decision  of  a  well- qualified 
veterinary  surgeon. 

This  will  generally  clinch  the  nail,  in  so  far  at  least  that  a  con¬ 
scious  rogue  will  decline  to  guarantee  his  beast,  and  that,  there¬ 
upon,  you,  if  you  be  wise,  will  decline  to  purchase. 

And  this  puts  us  in  mind  to  add  a  precept,  which  we  have 
personally  found  useful,  for  the  benefit  of  all  amateur  horse- 
dealers — horse-dealers,  we  mean,  who  buy  horses  because  they 
want  them  for  their  own  use,  intending  to  work  them,  not  to 
make  money  of  them  by  selling  them  again ;  and  who  sell  horses 
either  because  they  do  not  exactly  suit  them  for  their  own  pur¬ 
poses,  or  because  they  are,  perhaps,  more  valuable  than  they 
desire,  or  can  afford  to  keep.  This  precept  is,  never  to  buy  a 
horse  without  a  warranty,  nor  to  sell  one  with  a  warranty. 

Our  reason  is  as  follows:  While  the  writer  was  an  under¬ 
graduate  at  Cambridge,  he  owned  a  magnificent  blood  bay  hunter, 
full  sixteen  hands  high,  with  grand  action,  great  beauty,  a  good 
turn  of  speed,  an  undeniable  fencer,  and  good  to  stay  a  distance. 
He  had  won  several  hunter’s  stakes,  and  two  or  three  extem¬ 
poraneous  steeple-chases.  He  was  as  handsome  as  a  picture,  and 
as  sound  as  a  bell — just  six  years  old.  But  he  had  one  fault, 
and  a  bad  one ;  and  for  tliis,  and  this  only,  he  was  sold.  He  was 
an  incorrigible  shyer,  would  gallop  up  quite  close  to  some  ob¬ 
noxious  object,  as  straight  as  a  dye  and  as  quiet  as  a  dog,  with¬ 
out  pricking  an  ear,  winking  an  eyelid,  or  showing  the  least 
symptom  of  alarm,  and  then  wWld  whirl  right  round,  as  if  upon 
a  pivot,  and  break  away  at  a  hard,  tearing  gallop,  blind  and  mad 
with  terror — showing  thereby  that  it  was  an  old  and  incurable 
radical  fault,  for  which  he  had,  at  some  time  or  other,  been  un¬ 
mercifully  punished. 

Well,  the  horse  was  offered  for  sale  at  a  big  figure,  was  war¬ 
ranted  sound,  but  not  free  from  vice  or  blemish ;  but  trial  being 
allowed,  the  seller  observed  that  he  made  it  a  practice  never  to 
warrant  free  from  vice,  owing  to  persons  differing  so  much  as  to 


56 


what  constitutes  vice,  and  that  as  for  a  blemish,  it  is  open  to 
every  one  to  see  whether  a  horse  is  blemished  or  not  before  he 
buys  him.  After  some  ado,  the  bargain  was  struck,  the  horse 
delivered,  the  money  paid  over.  A  week  passed.  The  new 
owner  tried  his  horse  in  the  hunting-field,  was  well  carried,  and 
expressed  himself  charmed  with  the  purchase. 

On  the  eighth  day  the  horse  was  brought  back  into  the  writer’s 
stable,  dead  lame,  with  a  veterinary  surgeon’s  written  opinion  that 
he  was  affected  with  varicular  joint  disease  of  long  standing,  had 
been  lame  when  sold,  and  was  decidedly  returnable  under  the 
warranty  for  unsoundness. 

Now,  the  writer  knew  at  once  that  there  was  a  screw  loose 
somewhere ;  that  the  horse  was  perfectly  sound  when  he  was 
sold,  and  had  either  been  accidentally  lamed  since,  or,  what  was 
far  more  probable,  had  been  intentionally  lamed,  in  order  to 
create  a  reason  for  returning  him, — the  real  reason  being  his 
shying  propensity. 

On  examination,  the  foot  on  which  the  horse  flinched  was  ex¬ 
cessively  hot  in  the  region  of  the  hoof,  the  heat  not  extending 
upward  into  the  hair.  On  being  tapped  with  the  pincers,  pain 
was  manifested,  and  the  horse  flinched  badly  at  one  point.  Fur¬ 
ther  examination  showed  that  the  shoe  had  been  removed  since 
the  sale  of  the  animal.  It  was  again  removed,  and  the  trick 
became  at  once  transparent.  One  of  the  nail-heads  was  clinched 
inside  the  shoe,  without  being  driven  into  the  horn,  but  into  the 
hole  from  which  the  old  nail  had  been  drawn ;  a  ragged  splinter 
of  pine  wood  had  been  barbarously  driven  up  into  the  quick  of 
the  unfortunate  animal,  and  had,  of  course,  absolutely  lamed  him. 
It  was  taken  for  granted  that  the  base  and  cruel  fraud  would  not 
be  detected ;  that  the  animal  would  be  received  back  as  unsound, 
and  medically  treated  for  varicular  joint,  or  some  other  ordinary 
or  extraordinary  foot-disease,  in  which  case,  by  the  way,  there 
can  be  little  or  no  doubt  that  the  animal  would  have  become  in¬ 
curably  lame,  even  if  he  had  not  fallen  a  victim  to  lock-jaw, 
which  frequently  ensues  as  a  consequence  of  punctured  wounds 
of  that  description,  and  that  the  dishonest  purchaser,  who  could 
not  return  the  horse,  as  he  would  have  desired  to,  on  the  plea  of 
being  an  incorrigible  shyer,  which  he  was,  since  he  had  not 


67 


been  waiTanted  not  to  shy,  but  could  return  him,  and  recover,  if 
he  could  show  him  to  be  unsound. 

The  case  went  into  court,  and  was  easily  determined  against 
the  purchaser,  and  the  verdict  was  accompanied  with  a  severe 
stricture  on  the  cruelty  and  rascality  of  the  procedure,  which,  it 
is  to  be  observed,  was  in  this  case  the  rascality,  not  of  a  dealer,  but 
of  a  would-be  gentleman. 

Perhaps,  on  the  whole,  persons  who  call  themselves  gentlemen 
dealers  are  quite  as  much  distinguished  for  their  tricks  and  to  be 
dreaded  for  their  traps,  as  the  most  tricky  and  suspected  of  pro¬ 
fessionals.  A  well-known  dealer,  holding  out  at  his  own  well- 
known  and  established  stand,  has  always  a  character  of  one  kind 
or  other  to  maintain.  If  he  be  wise,  it  is  a  good  one — for  cer¬ 
tainly  he  can  make  the  more  out  of  it — and  if  it  be  a  good  one, 
he  will  be  most  likely  to  act  up  to  it.  For  a  horse-dealer’s  rep¬ 
utation  for  honesty  is,  at  least,  as  ticklish  a  subject  as  a  lady’s 
virtue.  If  it  be  bad,  of  course  one  has  nothing  to  do  with  him, 
and  there’s  an  end  on ’t. 

On  the  whole,  we  believe  it  is  safer,  in  spite  of  all  the  tricks 
and  traps,  to  buy  of  an  established  dealer  with  an  honest  face 
and  a  tolerably  good  name,  than  of  your  dear  friend  Jenkins, 
who  is  a  perfect  gentleman,  and  only  sells  because  he  has  got 
more  than  he  can  do  with,  and  because  he  knows  this  one,  in 
particular,  will  exactly  suit  his  dear  friend  Grreen’un. 


CHAPTER  YI. 


The  Secret  of  Horse-Taming. 

[As,  very  justly,  no  work  professing  to  give  an  expose  of  the 
tricks  and  traps  of  horse-dealers  can  be  considered  complete  un¬ 
less  it  take  up  the  subject  of  “  Horse-Taming,”  we  clip  the  fol¬ 
lowing  excellent  article  from  the  Boston  Gazette^  as  one  which,  we 
have  not  a  doubt,  Mr.  Herbert,  if  living,  would  subscribe  to  as 
covering  the  whole  matter : — Ed.  of  Series.] 

“The  reports  made  recently  of  a  Yankee’s  success  in  England 
in  taming  horses,  at  first  view,  would  seem  to  be  almost  fabulous, 
both  as  it  respects  the  experiments  he  is  said  to  have  performed, 
and,  also,  the  vast  amount  of  money  made  in  teaching  the  ‘  se¬ 
cret’  "We  are  told  that  Mr.  Rarey  has  been  patronized  by  the 
Queen  and  nobility,  and  also  that  he  has  realized  some  two 
hundred  thousand  dollars  by  his  operations ;  such  has  been  the 
estimate  placed  upon  his  secret  by  the  people  of  England  and 
Ireland.  And,  surely,  that  art  must  be  valuable  which  commands 
money  in  this  manner.  And  hence  we  see  the  same  art  announced 
here  as  a  ‘great  secret.’  And,  to  command  attention,  it  is  spoken 
of  as  a  new  discovery,  and  for  which  somebody  is  indebted  to  the 
Mexicans,  among  whom  the  secret  is  said  to  have  been  learned. 
My  own  opinion  is,  however,  that  there  is  no  real  secret  taught 
by  Mr.  Rarey  or  any  other  person  which  the  reader  will  not  find 
disclosed  in  these  remarks.  And  the  principal  part  of  this  secret 
the  writer  has  been  in  possession  of  for  more  than  forty  years, 
having  learned  it  from  his  own  father  in  the  back- woods  of  Rhode 
Island.  The  feats  performed  by  my  father  with  one  of  his  favor¬ 
ite  horses  are  among  the  most  interesting  memories  of  boyhood. 
We  lived  in  an  old-fashioned  farm-house,  where  the  ‘latch-string’ 
of  the  door  was  ‘  always  out’  (there  were  no  robbers  there),  and 


59 


our  ‘  gray  pet’  was  accustomed  of  his  own  accord  to  seize  the 
‘  string’ m  his  teeth,  by  which  he  would  lift  the  latch  and  ‘  walk 
in’  to  the  kitchen,  where  he  was  sure  to  be  caressed  and  fed. 

“  A  writer  in  a  late  number  of  the  ‘London  Illustrated  News’  is 
delighted  with  Mr.  Rarey’s  secret,  and  lauds  it  as  above  all  price ; 
and  horse-fanciers  throughout  the  United  Kingdom  seem  to  be  in 
ecstasies  ! 

“  It  was  to  be  expected,  as  a  matter  of  course,  that  these  re¬ 
ports  of  Mr.  Rarey’s  success  in  England  would  revive  attention 
to  this  subject  in  this  country ;  while  pretensions,  true  and  un¬ 
true,  will  be  put  forth  in  respect  to  priority  of  discovery  of  the 
whole  or  parts  of  the  secret  of  horse-taming.  And,  as  the  writer 
is  not  wholly  indebted  to  any  one  person  for  all  he  knows  on  this 
subject,  no  injustice  can  be  done  to  other  parties  by  these  dis¬ 
closures. 

“  Some  fifteen  years  ago  I  met  with  Mr.  Ofiutt,  the  celebrated 
horse-tamer  of  the  South  and  West.  He  attended  a  course  of 
lectures  I  was  then  giving  on  Pathetism  (the  philosophy  of 
charming),  and,  witnessing  my  success  in  fascinating  men,  he 
manifested  a  desire  to  be  made  acquainted  with  my  art^  and  so  he 
proposed  to  ‘  exchange’  secrets  with  me,  to  which  I  consented. 
And  this  veteran  horse-tamer  was  quite  astonished  when  he  found 
that  I  could  tell  him  beforehand  in  what  his  secret  consisted ! 
He  was  so  much  pleased,  that  he  at  once  gave  me  his  Pamphlet  of 
Instruction  for  managing  and  training  the  horse. 

“  I  am  aware  that  it  may  be  claimed  in  favor  of  these  extrava¬ 
gant  assumptions  of  a  ‘great  secret,’  that  persons  will,  by  such 
assumptions,  be  induced  to  seek  the  useful  knowledge  which  they 
would  never  think  of  acquiring  but  for  its  being  offered  under  the 
guise  of  a  ‘  secret.’  Were  the  art  of  training  horses  to  be  taught 
the  same  as  we  teach  English  grammar,  the  subject  would  not  be 
appreciated.  And,  thus  it  is  said,  if  a  skillful  physician  were  to 
offer  his  drugs  and  his  professional  services  gratis,  they  would 
not  be  appreciated.  Extravagant  assumptions  in  respect  to  a 
‘  great  secret,’  and  a  charge  of  ten  or  fifty  dollars  for  teaching  it, 
make  the  vulgar  stare,  and  put  money  in  the  pocket  of  the 
teacher.  ‘  Far  brought  and  dear  bought,’  attracts  the  ladies. 
‘Secrecy,’  a  ‘great  secret,’  and  a  large  fee  command  attention. 


60 


CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  HORSE; 

Or,  what  we  might,  perhaps,  for  the  want  of  a  better  term,  denom¬ 
inate  horseology.  I  say  characteristics^  not  because  I  purpose  to 
dilate  upon  those  susceptibilities  of  the  horse  which  are  well  known, 
and  which  all  parties  are  supposed  sufficiently  informed  of  to 
know  how  to  control  them.  These  susceptibilities  have  rendered 
him  by  far  the  greatest  acquisition  from  the  animal  kingdom  ever 
achieved  by  the  art  and  industry  of  man.  No  other  animal  con¬ 
tributes  so  much  to  human  convenience  and  pride,  and  no  other 
is  so  tractable^  and  domesticated  with  so  much  ease  and  so  little 
danger.  The  traits  which  render  him  so  useful  being  familiar  to 
all,  it  is  only  necessary  here  to  call  attention  to  one  or  two  which 
are  not  understood^  or  which,  if  known,  it  is  not  known  how  to 
control  the  horse  through  these  susceptibilities,  and  in  such  cases 
we  say  the  animal  is  wild^  refractory,  timid,  or  vicious. 

“  The  horse  is  unlike  the  dog,  the  bull,  and  most  other  quad¬ 
rupeds  in  two  respects,  both  of  which  peculiarities  run  into  one 
tendency.  The  horse  has  no  weapons  of  defense,  and  hence  is 
more  dependent  than  other  animals  on  his  sense  of  smell  for  his 
protection.  Indeed,  it  is  scarcely  known  how  very  keen  this  sense 
is  in  the  horse,  and  how  much  he  depends  upon  it  always.  In 
one  of  the  earhest  allusions  to  the  horse  (Book  of  Job,  xxxix.  19) 
this  trait  in  his  nature  is  noticed  when  the  writer  speaks  of  ‘  the 
terrible  glory  of  his  nostrils,'^  and  declares  that  ‘  he  smells  the 
battle  afar  off.’ 

“  It  is  remarkable  that,  unlike  other  animals,  the  horse  breathes 
only  through  his  nostrils,  and  not  through  the  mouth  hke  the  ox 
and  the  dog.  And  this  fact  goes  to  confirm  the  views  here  given 
as  to  the  strength  and  importance  of  this  function  of  smell,  as  if 
the  breath  of  the  horse  had  been  confined  to  the  nose,  in  order  to 
keep  ever  active  the  sense  of  smell,  which  the  horse  needs,  not 
merely  for  the  selection  of  his  food,  but  also  for  calling  into  ex¬ 
ercise  his  caution  and  combativeness,  those  functions  upon  which 
his  protection  and  life  so  very  much  depend.  The  horse  is,  there¬ 
fore,  excited,  alarmed,  and  repelled  through  his  sense  of  smell 
more  than  through  his  sense  of  hearing,  feeling,  taste,  or  sight. 
He  is  repelled  through  each  of  his  senses  at  times,  but  always 


61 


and  most  through  his'  sense  of  smell,  no  matter  what  the  object 
may  bo  by  which  he  is  frightened. 

“  A  knowledge  of  the  peculiar  function  of  smell  in  the  horse 
suggests  at  once  what  the  philosophy  of  horse-taming  must,  of 
course,  include.  For,  if  the  horse  is  so  much  repelled  and  fright¬ 
ened  through  the  sense  of  smell,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  he  may  be 
equally  attracted  through  the  sense  of  smell,  if  we  can  only  ap¬ 
proach  him  with  those  substances  which  wUl  sufficiently  gratify 
it.  The  scent  by  which  he  is  attracted  should  be  sufficiently  strong 
and  agreeable  to  him  to  overcome  the  smell  of  all  other  objects, 
animate  or  inanimate,  which  excite  his  fear,  and  are  disagreeable 
to  him. 

“It  is  said  that  each  human  being  ‘ has  his  price,’  and  may  be 
bought  or  induced  to  do  certain  things.  That  is,  all  have  certain 
tastes^  certain  senses^  and  when  these  senses  are  gratified  more  or 
less,  we  are  more  or  less  pleased.  And  so  of  all  animals ;  they 
may  be  infiuenced  by  addressing  their  strongest  senses.  And 
when,  as  in  the  case  of  the  horse,  it  is  the  sense  of  smell,  and 
that  smell  is  very  strong,  we  must  find  those  scents  that  gratify 
him  most,  and  such  as  will  thus  absorb  and  annihilate  all  other 
scents  that  are  disagreeable. 

to 

MECHANICAL,  MEDICINAL,  PSYCHOLOGICAL. 

“  I  find  each  of  these  terms  necessary  in  describing  all  that  is 
comprehended  in  the  philosophy  of  taming  and  training  the  horse. 
I  say  Mechanical  and  Medicinal  as  well  as  Psychological;  and 
hence  it  will  be  seen  what  a  misapprehension  it  is  when  people 
suppose  that  a  wild  horse  can  be  controlled  merely  by  human 
volition.  "When  we  are  told  that  a  wild  horse  is  made  to  lie 
down,  it  is  thought  by  those  not  in  the  ‘  secret’  that  this  is  done 
by  mere  volition,  or  by  a  word  or  a  motion  of  the  hand.  True,  a 
horse  may  be  trained  to  lie  down,  to  dance,  and  to  do  many  things; 
but  what  we  now  speak  of  is  the  process  for  getting  control 
over  a  vicious,  refractory  horse,  so  as  to  cause  him  to  lie  down. 
The  processes  for  catching  and  for  causing  a  wild  horse  to  lie 
down  are  mechanical,  medicinal,  and  then  psychological. 

“  The  horse,  like  all  animals,  is  controlled  by  memory  and  the 


laws  of  association.  Hence  he  must  be  reached  through  one  or 
each  of  his  external  senses — smeU,  sight,  hearing,  and  feeling ,  and 
when  they  are  reached,  he  may  be  further  controlled  by  mechani¬ 
cal  force,  and  especially  by  psychology  and  the  laws  of  associa¬ 
tion. 

“  For  the  mechanical  process  you  will  need  a  strong  leather 
strap,  three  or  four  feet  in  length,  with  a  buckle ;  also,  a  pole  (a 
fishing-rod) — the  longer  the  better.  On  the  end  of  the  pole  you 
may  wind  and  fasten  a  small  slip  of  cloth. 

“  For  the  medicinal  you  will  need  the  oil  of  rhodium,  oil  of 
cummin,  or  oil  of  anise-seed.  These  should  be  kept  in  air-tight 
phials  ready  for  use.  Have  also  in  readiness  the  horse  castor, 
grated  fine.  .  . 

“  That  which  partakes  of  the  psychological  you  will  find  in  your 
own  mind, — your  own  love,  will,  and  wisdom.  If  you  have  little 
or  no  instinctive  love  for  the  horse,  of  course  you  are  not  the 
person  to  control  him.  Men  and  women  are  often  found  who  are 
said  to  have  the  natural  gift  of  controlling  the  horse;  they  love 
horses  from  instinct,  as  it  were.  The  secret  in  these  cases  con¬ 
sists  in  their  intense  love  for  the  horse.  If  you  love  the  horse, 
you  will,  you  can,  but  know  how  to  make  the  horse  love  you. 
Love,  in  all  grades  of  animals,  has  its  appropriate  language ;  and 
when  this  language  is  addressed  to  the  horse,  it  excites  love,  of 
course.  A  blow  with  a  whip  or  a  club  does  not  come  from  love, 
but  from  combativeness,  and  it  excites  combativeness  or  fear  in 
the  horse.  If  you  want  to  make  a  horse  love  you  (and  you  must 
cause  him  to  love  you  if  you  control  him),  why,  of  course,  you 
must  love  him  and  treat  him  accordingly. 

“  Study  the  character  of  your  horse,  not  the  nature  of  horses 
in  general,  but  of  the  horse  you  wish  to  control.  Horses  differ  in 
their  dispositions  as  really  as  men  do ;  and  each  one  is  to  be  ap¬ 
proached,  attracted,  pleased,  and  controlled  accordingly.  The 
organs  in  our  way  are  Fear  and  Combativeness,  and  both  these 
functions  are  excited  through  the  sense  of  smell.  Observe  that 
the  objects  against  which  this  sense  of  smell  warns  the  horse 
differ  very  much.  One  object  or  person  may  be  offensive  to  one 
horse,  another  object  to  another.  And,  the  manner  in  which  a 
horse  is  affected  by  any  person  or  object  depends  not  upon  any 


63 


reasoning'  faculty  or  volition  in  the  horse,  but,  wholly,  upon  the 
physiological  and  chemical  qualities  and  quantities  which  com¬ 
bine  in  making  up  his  nature.  But  in  a  large  majority  of  cases 
it  will  be  found  that,  whatever  the  object  is  (whether  animate 
or  inanimate)  which  repels  the  horse,  the  excitement  is  induced 
through  the  sense  of  smell.  Through  this  sense  fear  is  excited, 
and  tliis  excites  combativeness;  and  combativeness  and  fear 
excited  in  a  horse  make  him  wild,  refractory,  and  vicious.  And 
hence  it  follows  that,  if  we  can  gratify  this  sense  of  smell,  so  as 
to  prevent  the  horse  from  taking  cognizance  of  the  natural  ob¬ 
jects  of  fear,  we  have  thus,  for  the  time  being,  thrown  a  charm 
upon  his  senses  whioh  allays  his  fear,  that  he  may  be  controlled. 

TO  CATCH  A  WILD  HORSE. 

“ It  is  said  we  may  ‘catch  larks  when  the  sky  falls,’  or,  when 
we  can  ‘  put  salt  on  their  tails so  we  can  put  the  halter  on  the 
wild  horse  when  we  shall  have  caught  him.  And  many  a  farmer 
knows  how  exhausting  it  has  often  been  to  his  patience,  in 
chasing  a  wild  horse  about  the  fields,  which  from  time  to  time  he 
has  attempted  in  vain  to  catch. 

“If  your  horse  be  in  the  field,  he  must  be  ‘cornered;’  drive 
him  into  a  yard  into  the  corner  where  he  cannot  escape.  Rub 
your  hands  with  the  oil  of  cummin,  or  rhodium ;  have  your  pole, 
with  the  small  piece  of  cloth  wound  on  the  further  end,  which 
must  smell  also  of  the  oU.  Approach  him  from  the  windward, 
and  you  may  thus  attract  him,  even  before  he  is  within  the  reach 
of  your  pole.  Proceed,  gently,  until  you  can  reach  his  back  with 
the  end  of  your  pole.  It  is  precisely  as  if  your  arm  were  elon¬ 
gated  to  the  length  of  your  pole ;  and  you  pat  him  and  work  and 
move  the  pole  over  his  back,  gradually  and  gently  approaching 
Ills  head.  And,  thus  by  passing  the  pole  up  and  down  his  back, 
and  occasionally  carrying  the  end  near  his  nose,  he  is  attracted 
by  the  sense  of  smell,  so  that  you  may  slowly  shorten  the  dis¬ 
tance  between  you  and  the  horse,  until  you  can  with  your  hand 
rub  a  httle  of  the  oil  of  cummin  or  rhodium  on  his  nose ;  and, 
this  done,  you  can  with  suitable  assistance  put  on  the  bridle  or 
halter,  and  thus  secure  him.  A  failure  for  a  few  times  should  not 


64 


discourage  you — ^repeat  the  process  until  you  succeed.  And,  if 
you  fail  with  one  of  the  oils,  try  another.  With  some  horses  you 
may  succeed  best  by  mixing  equal  parts  of  the  oil  of  rhodium 
and  anise-seed.  A  small  quantity  of  the  rhodium  may  be  dropped 
upon  the  grated  castor,  after  it  has  been  sprinkled  upon  an  apple 
or  a  lump  of  sugar,  and  given  him  to  eat ;  and  rubbing  his  nose 
with  either  of  these  oils,  and,  at  the  same  time,  breathing  into 
his  nostrils,  will  often  work  like  a  ‘  charm.’  But,  then,  it  should 
be  borne  in  mind,  that  there  is  a  difference  in  horses  as  really  as 
in  human  beings.  Horses  that  have  large  caution  or  fear,  it  is, 
of  course,  much  more  difficult  to  control.  But  the  agreeable  ex¬ 
citement  of  the  sense  of  smell  overcomes  the  sense  of  fear,  and 
fear  once  subdued,  it  enables  you  to  render  your  sphere  agreeable 
to  the  horse,  so  that  you  may  compel  him  to  do  your  bidding. 

TO  CAUSE  THE  HORSE  TO  LIE  DOWN. 

“  I  speak  of  the  untamed  horse,  of  course.  When  a  horse  has 
been  once  tamed  as  I  have  said,  especially  if  he  be  docile  and 
tractable,  he  may  be  taught  to  lie  down,  to  limp,  or  dance,  &c., 
by  the  laws  of  association.  But  a  wild  horse  cannot  be  made 
to  lie  down  by  a  word  or  motion.  Hence  we  have  to  resort  to 
the  mechanism  of  which  I  have  already  spoken.  It  is  well  always 
to  rub  his  nose  with  the  oil  of  cummin,  and  always  have  this 
article  in  readiness  with  which  to  attract  his  sense  of  smell.  To 
cause  him  to  he  down,  double  his  left  fore-leg,  and  buckle  it  up 
strongly  with  the  strap  before  described.  Now  gently  induce  him 
to  walk,  and  you  wiU  find  him  on  his  knee  or  knees,  when  you 
seize  him  by  the  neck  and  throw  him  over  upon  his  side.  When 
thus  ‘fioored,’  you  have  him  very  much  in  your  power,  and  by 
guarding  his  head,  you  may  keep  him  quiet  while  you  talk  to 
him,  sit  or  stand  upon  him,  or  pass  a  wheel-barrow  over  his  body. 

“  The  horse,  unlike  many  other  animals,  seems  to  have  a  con¬ 
sciousness  of  his  subjugation  when  lying  down,  and  unable  to 
rise.  And  this  is  the  time  for  you  to  cultivate  a  thorough  famil¬ 
iarity  with  each  of  his  senses,  smell,  sight,  hearing,  and  feeling. 
What  the  horse  needs  is  to  become  thoroughly  acquainted  with  you 
— to  be  made  to  feel  that  there  is  nothing  in  your  smell  or  per- 


65 


son  that  he  need  to  fear.  Certain  horses  have  more  or  less  in¬ 
stinctive  fear  of  certain  things — one  of  a  buflfalo-skin,  another  of 
certain  sounds,  as  the  beating  of  a  drum,  or  the  discharge  of  fire¬ 
arms.  Tincture  the  buffalo  with  the  oil  of  cummin,  and  while 
the  horse  is  thus  secure,  you  may  make  him  perfectly  familiar 
with  it,  as  it  is  through  the  sense  of  smell  that  the  buffalo  gene¬ 
rally  repels  or  frightens  the  horse.  And  then,  while  he  is  secure, 
you  can  familiarize  him  with  the  sound  of  fire-arms  or  the  snare- 
drum,  fire-crackers,  or,  indeed,  any  and  all  sounds,  however  fright¬ 
ful.  These  experiments  may  in  some  cases  have  to  be  repeated, 
but  they  will  surely  succeed,  and,  by  their  repetition,  your  horse 
not  only  finds  out  that  you  love  him,  but  also  that  you  have  ab¬ 
solute  control  over  him.  And  this  power  you  are  bound  to  have, 
if  you  can  ever  catch  your  horse,  and  only  once  get  him  upon  the 
ground,  in  the  manner  here  stated. 

• 

HORSE-TRAmNa. 

“  Under  this  head  we  find  a  use  for  what  I  denominate  the 
Psychological  part  of  our  method.  We  find  this  noble  animal  so 
docile,  and  so  easy  to  learn  the  lessons  set  for  him  by  the  laws  of 
association  to  which  we  have  referred,  who  can  help  loving  lum  ? 
True  it  is  that  all  horses  are  not  tractable  alike ;  but  when  we  see 
the  extent  to  which  man’s  power  over  them  may  be  carried,  we 
should  be  encouraged  to  persevere  in  the  use  of  all  humane  and 
appropriate  means  for  subduing  them  to  our  control. 

“We  have  been  told,  indeed,  that  the  name  horse  (from  hyrs- 
ian,  to  obey)  is  from  its  iractableness.  And  this  quality  in  his 
character  it  is  which  renders  him  so  useful,  and  so  fitting  an  ob¬ 
ject  of  man’s  affectionate  regard.  I  have  been  asked  if  I  suppose 
the  horse  to  have  a  soul  ?  I  answer,  yes,  certainly,  the  soul  of  a 
horse,  not  the  soul  or  reason  of  a  man.  The  horse  has  Caution,  or 
Fear,  Docility,  and  the  three  external  senses.  Feeling  (of  which 
smell  and  taste  are  perhaps  modifications).  Hearing,  and  Sight. 
He  has,  also.  Combativeness  and  Memory.  What  seems  to  be  an 
approach  to  reason  is,  perhaps.  Memory,  and  the  laws  of  associa¬ 
tion,  which  are  alike  powerful  over  animals  and  men.  Thus  a 
horse  frightened  at  a  particular  spot  will  be  apt  to  start  whenever 


66 


passing  the  same  place,  all  from  the  laws  of  association.  Harsh 
and  cruel  usage  should,  therefore,  always  be  avoided.  In  cases 
where  a  horse  is  refractory,  vicious,  or  combative,  no  blow  should 
ever  be  used.  And,  to  one  who  appreciates  the  nature  and  true 
character  of  the  horse,  the  sight  is,  indeed,  painful,  so  often  seen 
in  our  streets,  when  a  horse  is  pommeled  with  a  war-club. 

“  1.  Make  your  horse  love  you.  Attract  him  by  all  means  in 
your  power.  How  you  should  reach  him  through  the  sense  of  smell 
(always  when  you  fail  in  other  methods)  I  have  told  you.  The 
nearer  you  get  to  him  the  better.  I  once  heard  the  celebrated 
Gatlin  say  that  he  had  seen  the  little  calves  of  the  buffalo,  on  the 
Western  prairies,  following  the  hunters  after  their  dams  had  been 
killed.  To  induce  the  calves  to  follow  them,  the  hunters  breath¬ 
ed  into  their  nostrils  and  fondled  them.  Thus  with  your  person 
scented  with  the  Cummin  oil,  or  rhodium,  breathe  into  the  nostrils 
of  your  horse, — Pathetize  him  with  your  sphere ;  fondle  (or,  as  the 
Scotch  would  say,  cuddle)  him.  Thus  he  becomes  acquainted  with 
you ;  he  associate's  you  with  what  he  loves  to  smeU  or  eat,  and 
thus  you  gain  your  power  over  him.  Do  not  be  cross  or  cruel — 
do  not  beat  him,  but  caress,  love  him,  fondle  over  him,  and  thus 
cause  your  horse  to  love  you  1  Love  is  the  ‘  charm,’  the  great 
secret,  if  you  will,  and  without  it  you  can  never  control  a  vicious 
horse.  It  must  be  in  you,  must  come  out  of  you,  must  appear  in 
your  words,  tones,  and  all  your  acting,  if  you  wish  the  horse  to 
love  you.  There  are  many  good-natured,  kind  people,  who  would 
be  glad  to  make  their  animals  love  them,  but  they  lack  wisdom ; 
they  do  not  seem  to  appreciate  those  means  which  alone  are  ap¬ 
propriate  for  securing  this  result. 

“2.  The  necessity  of  method.  The  wisdom  element  is  always 
shown  in  the  methods  we  adopt  for  the  accomplishment  of  certain 
ends.  The  manner  in  which  we  do  our  work  shows  how  much 
we  know  in  respect  to  it.  To  succeed,  therefore,  in  this  work, 
you  should  have  rules  well  digested.  A  knowledge  of  the  horse, 
of  his  nature  and  natural  habits,  will  be  of  great  assistance. 

“  The  nature  of  the  horse  is  never  changed ;  this  nature  re¬ 
mains  the  same  as  it  always  has  been.  But  the  character,  the 
disposition,  and  habits  of  the  horse  may  be  very  much  improved. 
By  adapting  our  means  to  the  wants  and  susceptibilities  of  tho 


67 


horse,  we  may  improve  his  character,  change  his  habits,  allay  his 
fears,  and  subject  him  completely  to  our  control. 

“  Uniformity  is  necessary  in  our  method.  It  is  by  the  repeti¬ 
tion,  by  the  constant  recurrence  of  certain  motions,  words  or 
actions,  that  we  succeed.  Many  fail  for  the  want  of  uniformity  in 
their  method.  They  are  loving  and  kind  by  spells ;  then  they 
are  harsh  and  cruel.  The  horse  is  ‘  impressed,’  as  it  is  said,  with 
his  master’s  wishes,  when  those  wishes  are  often  and  uniformly 
expressed  in  motions,  words,  and  deeds  1  If  man  needs  ‘  precept 
upon  precept,  line  upon  line,’  &c.,  in  order  to  learn  his  lessons  well, 
how  much  more  true  is  (this  of  the  horse,  which  is  below  man  in 
consciousness  and  the  reflective  faculties. 

“In  the  foregoing  details,  I  have  laid  down  the  principles  and 
the  main  processes  for  taming  and  training  horses.  Details  are 
omitted,  as  unnecessary  in  a  newspaper  article ;  but  I  have  given 
more  information  in  these  remarks  than  is  often  communicated  for 
the  sum  of  from  $10  to  $500,  as  the  ‘  Great  Secret’  of  taming 
horses.  But  I  am  asked,  if  a  horse,  when  thus  subdued,  can  be 
managed  by  any  other  person  beside  the  one  who  tamed  him  ? 
To  this  question  I  could  not  give  a  positive  answer,  either  affirma¬ 
tive  or  negative.  As  a  general  rule,  a  horse  can  be  always 
managed  best  by  his  tamer.  It  is  similar  with  the  canine  race. 
A  dog  obeys  his  master  better  than  any  other  person,  and  similar 
laws  subdue  and  control  the  horse.  Of  course  a  horse  will  obey 
that  person  best  who  subdues  him,  or  who  has  the  most  to  do  with 
him.  And  while  there  may  be,  now  and  then,  a  horse  which  can¬ 
not  be  very  well  managed  by  strangers  after  having  been  thus 
tamed,  yet  there  is  no  horse  but  that  may  be  more  or  less  bene¬ 
fited  if  subdued  and  managed  in  the  manner  here  recommended. 

“A.  Y.  D.” 


Boston,  May  12,  1858.” 


ADDITIONAL. 


A  writer  in  BdVs  Lip  in  London  gives  the  following  statement 
in  relation  to  the  manner  of  taming  horses  in  1825,  which  is  iden¬ 
tical  with  a  part  of  Mr.  Earey’s  practice,  and  dates  the  art  back  to 
a  period  before  Mr.  R.  was  born : 

“  At  Stainton-le-Yale,  in  Lincolnshire,  there  lived  a  large  farmer 
and  horse-breeder  of  the  name  of  Morris,  at  whose  place  what 
I  am  about  to  relate  occurred.  In  the  same  neighborhood  resided 
a  notorious  horse-breaker,  named  Bull.  The  following  narration 
of  the  facts  was  given  me  from  an  eye-witness,  Mr.  T.  C.  Johnson, 
of  Che  vet,  near  Wakefield:  Mr.  J.  had  a  vicious  horse,  and  hav¬ 
ing  heard  of  the  renowned  BuU,  he  went  to  Stainton-le-Yale  to 
see  the  method  adopted.  On  being  shown  into  a  large  stable 
without  stalls,  upon  the  straw  lay  two  young  horses,  to  all  appear¬ 
ance  almost  lifeless,  while  Bull  was  riding  a  third  between  and 
around  them,  cracking  a  whip  and  making  divers  other  noises ;  a 
post  was  fixed  in  the  middle  of  the  stable,  near  which  he  rode 
and  dismounted.  He  then  said:  ‘Whereabouts  will  you  have 
this  horse  lie  down  V  A  spot  was  pointed  out,  and  a  little  fresh 
straw  shaken  under  the  horse,  and  giving  the  animal  a  slight  tap 
on  the  fore-legs,  down  he  went. .  The  other  two  horses  were  each 
respectively  mounted,  and  went  through  the  same  process.  While 
the  animals  were  standing.  Bull  threw  himself  against  their  quar¬ 
ters,  slipped  backward  over  the  tail,  and  favored  the  spectators 
with  various  other  such  manoeuvres.  After  witnessing  this  per¬ 
formance,  and  the  quietness  of  the  animals,  Mr.  J.  said :  ‘  What 
am  I  to  give  you  for  the  secret  ?’  to  which  Bull  replied  ‘A  sover- 
reign’ — money  not  being  so  plentiful  as  in  these  days  of  Rareyfying. 
Eventually,  however,  the  sum  offered  and  accepted  was  12s., 
which  Bull  remarked  he  would  invest  in  a  gown  for  his  ‘  old 
woman.’  And  now  for  the  secret.  First  catch  your  horse,  then 


69 


strap  the  near  fore-leg  up  round  the  arm  of  the  animal,  lead 
him  about  on  three  legs  until  he  becomes  tired  or  weary;  he 
will  then  allow  you  to  handle  him  anywhere ;  then  attach  a  strap 
with  a  ring  to  the  off  fore-fetlock ;  to  this  ring  fasten  another 
strap,  which  being  brought  over  the  horse’s  back  to  the  near  side, 
is  put  through  the  ring  on  the  off  fore-fetlock ;  return  the  end  of 
the  strap  to  the  near  side,  keeping  fast  hold,  and  move  the  animal 
on,  and  pull ;  he  will  then  be  thrown  upon  his  knees,  when,  after 
struggling  some  time,  by  gentle  usage  he  will  lie  down.  After 
unloosing  the  straps  again,  put  him  through  the  same  process  as 
before,  when  the  horse  will  lie  down  whenever  required.  One 
great  superiority  of  Bull’s  system  was,  that  he  rode  the  animals 
about  in  a  large  stable  while  perfectly  quiet,  and  so  well  mouthed 
that  they  would  either  turn  right  or  left,  or  even  go  backward 
with  every  gentle  pull  of  the  bridle.  He  was  at  the  same  time 
most  kind  and  patient  with  them.” 

Another  evidence  of  the  antiquity  of  horse-taming  is  found  in 
Mr.  Gatlin’s  published  account  of  his  travels  among  the  North 
American  Indians.  The  manner  in  which  the  Indian  achieves 
the  subjugation  of  the  wild  horses  is  thus  described : 

“  He  coils  his  lasso  on  his  arm,  and  gallops  fearlessly  into  the 
herd  of  wild  horses  and  soon  gets  it  over  the  neck  of  one  of  the 
number,  when  he  instantly  dismounts  so  as  to  hold  him  down, 
and  prevent  it  from  turning  itself  over  on  its  back.  By  this 
means  he  gradually  advances,  and  he  is  able  to  place  his  hand 
on  the  animal’s  nose  and  over  its  eyes,  and,  at  length,  to  breathe 
into  its  nostrils,  when  it  soon  becomes  docile  and  conquered ;  so 
that  he  has  little  else  to  do  than  to  remove  the  hobbles  from  its 
feet,  and  to  lead  or  ride  it  to  the  camp.  The  animal  is  so  completely 
conquered  that  it  submits  quietly  ever  after,  and  is  led  or  rode 
away  with  very  little  difficulty.” 

The  Philadelphia  Bulletin  says:  “Some  years  ago,  a  man  in 
Philadelphia  sold  a  small  pamphlet,  purporting  to  contain  the  great 
secret  of  horse-charming.  For  the  pamphlet  he  charged  five 
dollars,  and,  we  believe,  bound  the  purchaser  to  secrecy  by  an 
oath.  As  we  are  informed,  the  secret  consisted  of  bewildering 
the  animal  in  some  way,  by  tying  a  buffalo-skin  to  his  tail.  Some¬ 
body  at  some  time  may  have  tamed  a  wild  horse  by  thus  amazing 


ro 


him,  but  it  is  very  doubtful  whether  any  of  the  methods  depend¬ 
ing  upon  nervous  alarm  for  their  success,  are  reliable.  Neither 
would  we  venture  to  guarantee  the  success  of  oil  of  rhodium- or 
cummin — ^upon  any  animal  with  a  had  cold  in  the  head.'" 

Mr.  Rarey'’s  Treatment. 

The  principles  which  underlie  the  whole  art  of  horse-taming,  as 
practiced  by  Mr.  Rarey,  and,  more  or  less,  'by  various  of  his  most 
successful  predecessors,  may  be  stated  thus : 

That  obedience  to  man  is  a  ruling  principle  in  the  nature  of  the 
horse ;  and  therefore,  to  make  him  obey  is  not  necessarily  to  do 
violence  to  him.  That  disobedience  is  in  fact  forced  upon  him  by 
conduct  toward  him  which  does  violence  to  his  nature. 

That  to  make  him  obey,  it  is  only  necessary  to  make  him  fully 
comprehend  what  is  required  of  him. 

That  he  has  originally  no  conception  of  his  own  strength  or 
powers ;  and. 

That  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  keep  him  in  ignorance,  which 
can  only  be  done  by  mastering  him  without  force ;  that  is,  by 
kindness. 

That,  in  the  horse,  as  well  as  in  man,  fear  is  the  result  of  igno¬ 
rance;  and 

'  That,  therefore,  it  is  only  necessary  to  accustom  him  to  any  object 
of  which  he  may  at  first  stand  in  ^  dread,  to  make  him  lose  the 
sense  of  fear.  Farther, 

That  the  best  means  of  accomplishing  this  end  is  to  allow  him 
to  examine  the  dreaded  object  himself,  and  in  the  manner  which  is 
most  natural  to  him. 

All  which  amounts  to  just  this :  that  the  horse  is  an  intelligent 
creature,  and  that  the  only  way  to  develop  fully  all  his  powers  of 
usefulness  to  man  is  to  treat  him  as  such,  and  to  convince  him  that 
his  master  is  also  his  superior  and  his  best  friend. 


QUIT  CLAIM. 

“  You've  got  tlie  possession,  you  shall  have  the  title.” 


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CHAPTER  L 


The  Ups  and  Downs  op  Chicago. 

All  hail,  Chicago !  paradise  of  mud  ! 

City  of  hlth,  and  stinks  of  all  kinds,  blent ; 

Where  foul  corruption  pours  a  ceaseless  flood ; 

Vice  holds  her  court,  and  law  to  crime  is  bent ; 

Where  midnight  gutters  run  with  rowdy  blood  ; 

Where  magistrates  are  to  the  bridewell  sent ; 

Where  speculators  rob  the  grave  for  gains  ; 

Where  Seiflert  sleeps  and  Elongatus  reigns  ! 

Thus  sang  Barde  of  Brydgeporte,”  the  venerable  G.  Whil- 
likins !  I  may  as  well  inform  the  ignorant  reader  that  Bridge¬ 
port  is  a  collection  of  slaughter-houses,  cattle-yards,  stables,  mud- 
holes,  rum-holes,  groggeries,  lager-beer  shops,  shanties,  pigs, 
chickens,  Celts,  Teutons,  one-story  houses,  wolfish  dogs,  children, 
cooper-shops,  stump-tail  cows,  and  hoop-poles,  situated  just  with^ 
out  the  incorporated  area  of  Chicago,  at  the  junction  of  the  south 
and  west  branches  of  the  Chicago  river,  whose  muddy  water  is 
here  elevated  by  a  huge  pumping  machine  into  the  Illinois  and 
Michigan  Canal. 

Though  unknown  to  fame  it  is  a  spot  of  no  little  importance  in 
the  world’s  economy.  It  is  here  that  the  bulk  of  the  Chicago 
beef — famous  even  in  the  markets  of  the  Old  World — is  slaughter¬ 
ed  and  packed.  It  is  here  that  some  of  the  wealthiest  citizens 
of  Chicago  have  amassed  their  riches,  transmuting  fiesh  and  blood 
into  gold.  It  is  here,  and  in  this  vicinity,  that,  during  the  “  pack¬ 
ing  season,”  may  be  seen  the  “cattle  from  a  thousand  hills”  and 
prairies,  waiting  in  droves  to  be  butchered.  It  is  here  that  mud 
and  musquitoes  do  prevail  in  all  their  primeval  glory. 

For  know,  0  uninformed  reader,  that  Chicago,  whatever  it 

1* 


6 


may  be  now,  was  once  a  mud-hoh.  Where  now  rise  gigantic 
structures  that  rival  in  architectural  magnificence  the  costly 
edifices  of  older  and  greater  cities,  there  stood  only  inferior 
houses  of  wood,  squatted,  toad-like,  in  a  marsh.  In  Lake,  and 
Eandolph,  and  Clark,  and  all  the  principal  streets,  where  now  it 
is  difficult  to  cross  the  stone  pavement  for  the  throng  of  vehicles 
of  every  name  and  description,  it  was  then,  at  certain  seasons  of 
the  year,  even  more  difficult  to  pass  on  account  of  the  unknown 
depth  of  the  mud.  It  was  not  tmusual,  at  that  time,  for  the 
stranger  to  be  astonished  by  the  discovery  of  a  sign-board  in  the 
street,  conveying  the  ominous  warning,  “No  bottom  here!”  An 
incident  is  still  remembered  by  “  old  settlers”  (every  one  who  has 
lived  here  a  dozen  years  is  considered  an  “old  settler”)  which 
occurred  in. those  days  to  a  farmer  who  came  to  town  with  a  load 
of  grain.  Turning  from  Lake-street  into  Clark,  he  espied  a  hat 
on  the  road,  and  drove  his  team  far  out  of  the  way  toward  the 
opposite  sidewalk,  A  pedestrian,  whose  dress  received  a  splash 
of  mud,  demanded  in  a  rather  peremptory  tone  the  cause  of  such 
a  proceeding.  “See  there  1”  said  he  with  the  produce,  pointing 
with  his  whip  toward  the  hat;  “neighbor  Jones  was  right  ahead 
of  me  with  a  load  of  oats,  and  every  thing  is  sunk  in  that  ere 
mud-hole,  except  his  hat  I” 

The  writer  does  not  vouch  for  the  correctness  of  the  farmer’s 

4 

assertion,  although  he  has  seen,  at  a  much  later  day,  teams  stuck 
fast  in  Randolph-street,  and  unable  to  draw  an  empty  wagon  out 
of  the  mud. 

In  the  heart  of  the  city  these  things  have  passed  away ;  the 
“high  grade”  has  left  the  original  “mud-sills”  far  below  ground; 
substantial  pavement  is  succeeding  primitive  plank,  and  costly 
temples  of  commerce  are  crowding  out  “  balloon  frames,”  which, 
in  an  earlier  day  crowded  out  Pottowottomie  wigwams. 

The  Pottowottomie’s  “Place  of  the  Wild  Onion,”*  is  in  its  third 
transition  state.  The  first  was  from  meadow  to  mud ;  the  second, 

*  “  Chicago  is  a  Frenchified  Indian  word,  signifying  “Place  of  the  Wild 
Onion.”  Some  have  supposed  it  to  be  the  Pottowottomie  name  for  a  skunk^ 
which  is  an  error,  according  to  Schoolcraft,  whom  I  have  taken  as  author* 
ity.  Either  interpretation  is  appropriate  enough  to  the  place,  which,  aftei 
a  warm  rain,  smells  bad.”— G.  Whillikms. 


-7 


'  from  mud  to  plank;  the  third,  from  the  “low  grade”  to  the 
“high  grade.”  In  its  varied  phases  it  is  a  type  of  Western  pro¬ 
gress — ^turbulent,  chaotic.  Nothing  rests — nothing  can  rest.  To 
one  who  looks  down  from  the  lofty  observatory  on  the  court- 
hoase,  the  panorama  of  moving  life  and  moving  matter  is  one  of 
no  common  interest.  Nothing  but  the  firm  earth  and  the  solid 
walls  is  still.  Walls— even  they  are  in  motion — on  the  right,  the 
left,  all  around — moving  upward.  Whole  blocks  are  rising  from 
their  foundations,  some  to  be  carried  away  to  new  localities, 
while,  in  the  places  where  they  stood,  palaces  are  growing  up  out 
of  the  ground.  Hither  and  thither,  onward,  upward,  every  thing 
and  every  body  in  motion,  moving  to  the  touch  of  Progress,  build¬ 
ing  the  foundations  of  the  Future ! 

But  these  foundations  are  established  upon  a  different  grade 
from  those  of  the  past;  wherefore  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
features  of  this  third  transition  state  is  presented  by  the  “  ups  and 
downs  of  Chicago.” 

What  an  absurd  paradox  1  The  ups  and  downs  of  a  city  builded 
on  the  fiattest  and  levelest  plain  in  America.  Yes,  reader,  and 
such  ups  and  downs  as  no  other  city  in  America  presents. 

It  was  a  favorite  idea  with  the  people  of  Chicago  that  the  nat¬ 
ural  elevation  of  the  ground,  above  the  surface  of  the  lake,  was 
sufficient  to  render  a  thorough  system  of  drainage  practicable. 
But  when  the  Board  of  Commissioners,  created  to  carry  out  this 
desirable  object,  came  to  make  their  surveys,  such  was  found  not 
to  be  the  case.  To  remedy  the  defect  the  first  “high  grade”  was 
established  by  an  ordinance  which  remained  in  force  one  year. 
During  this  year  Lake-street  was  filled  and  paved,  and  a  consider¬ 
able  number  of  permanent  buildings  were  erected  on  this  and 
other  streets.  Again,  it  was  found  that  the  grade  was  too  low 
for  the  drainage  of  basements,  and  that,  unless  it  was  still  further 
raised,  the  city  must  do  without  these  desirable  conveniences,  or 
be  content  with  damp  cellars  of  only  six  or  seven  feet.  The 
property  owners  petitioned,  and  the  grade  was  fixed  at  its  present 
altitude,  an  average  of  about  ten  feet  above  the  natural  surface 
of  the  ground. 

New  buildings  were  of  course  erected  “on  the  grade,”  with 
sidewalks  in  front  of  them,  from  which  the  pedestrian  might 


8 


almost  look  down  into  the  next-door  neighbor’s  chimney-top. 
Thus  stairways,  incline-planes,  ladders,  tackle  and  windlasses, 
or  some  other  hoisting  apparatus,  became  necessary  to  accommo¬ 
date  pedestrians  to  the  numerous  “ups  and  downs”  in  Chicago 
sidewalks. 

Multitudinous  are  the  mishaps  which  have  occurred  on  account 
of  these  ups  and  downs,  and  great  is  the  amount  of  money  which 
the  city  has  had  to  pay  to  repair  damages.  To  strangers,  in  par¬ 
ticular,  who  are  unacquainted  with  the  topography  of  the  Garden 
City  (so  called,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  in  compliment  to  the  in¬ 
terpretation  of  its  Indian  name — “  Place  of  the  Wild  Onion”)  they 
are  a  source  of  no  little  danger,  as  well  as  annoyance.  To  a 
strictly  sober  and  temperate  gentleman,  absorbed,  perhaps,  in  the 
consideration  of  some  momentous  commercial  interest,  it  is  not 
pleasant  to  be  suddenly  confronted  in  the  way  by  a  flight  of  stairs; 
and  to  one  who  is  not  strictly  sober  and  temperate,  it  is  not  agree¬ 
able  to  be  tumbled  headlong  down  a  flight  of  stairs  or  off  a  per¬ 
pendicular  precipice.  Of  the  latter  class  of  cases  the  fate  of  our 
venerable  Bridgeport  friend  furnishes  a  sad  and  instructive  ex¬ 
example  : 

The  shades  of  night  were  falling  fast 
As  through  a  street,  called  Randolph,  passed 
A  youth,  whose  locks  of  early  gray. 

And  countenance,  did  seem  to  say, 

G.  Whillikins ! 

As  with  grave  mien  and  look  sedate. 

And  slight  impediment  in  gait., 

He  strode  each  lager-beer  shop  by, 

From  youthfhl  brats  escaped  the  cry, 

G.  Whillikins  I 

He  heeded  not,  but  onward  pressed. 

His  mighty  thoughts  no  word  expressed. 

Save  when  some  change  of  grade  before. 

Brought  him  up  standing  ;  then  he  swore, 

G.  Whillikins  I 

The  night  was  dark,  the  mud  was  deep. 

The  uncertain  walk  was  hard  to  keep. 

And  presently  a  splash  was  there — 

A  voice  rang  through  the  startled  air, 

G.  Whillikins ! 


0 


Recumbent  in  a  mud-hole  lay 
The  youth  with  locks  of  early  gray; 

Above,  a  spectral  gas-lamp  shone, 

And  hrom  his  lips  escaped  a  groan, 

G.  Whillikins  ’ 

There,  the  next  morning,  he  was  found. 

Stretched  at  full  length  upon  the  ground  , 

And,  pillowed  there  beneath  his  head. 

An  empty  brandy-bottle  said, 

G  Whillikins ! 

In  seeking  to  avoid  similar  mishaps,  the  best  course  is  not, 
however,  the  one  adopted  by  a  respectable  citizen  of  Buffalo,  who 
visited  Chicago  not  long  since.  Starting  out  from  his  hotel  to 
visit  the  shop  of  a  tradesman  who  owed  him  money,  he  proceeded 
at  a  moderate  pace  along  the  sidewalk,  his  eyes  downcast  and  his 
thoughts  not  on  the  things  to  come.  In  this  way  he  had  walked 
but  a  short  distance  when  a  collision  took  place.  The  toes  of  liis 
boots  came  somewhat  violently  in  contact  with  a  flight  of  stairs. 
Bewildered  by  the  unexpected  and  somewhat  painful  occurrence, 
he  looked  up.  Before  him  rose  the  perpendicular  wall  of  a  five- 
story  building,  with  what  appeared  to  be  an  outside  stairway 
leading  to  a  lofty  porch  in  front.  Having  a  particular  aversion  to 
lofty  stairways,  our  Bufifalonian  turned  at  right  angles  and  crossed 
to  the  other  side  of  the  street. 

Again  he  proceeded,  but  at  the  distance  of  twenty  rods  was 
again  brought  to  a  sudden  stop.  Apparently  the  walk  came  to 
an  abrupt  termination.  Before  him  was  a  solid  stone  wall,  ten 
feet  high.  He  turned  to  the  right — the^ame  stonewall;  to  the 
left — the  walk  led  away  in  that  direction — hemmed  in  on  one 
side  by  the  \vall ;  on  the  other,  by  a  row  of  wood  tenements. 
■Without  retracing  his  steps,  or  scaling  the  battlements — this  was 
the  only  route  to  take — our  Bufifalonian  took  it. 

Soon  he  found  it  necessary  to  pick  his  way  with  great  care  to 
avoid  the  numerous  abysses  that  yawned  between  the  loose 
planks.  He  could  proceed  but  slowly.  The  walk  seemed  to  grow 
worse  and  worse.  A  long  time — he  could  not  tell  how  long — 
had  elapsed  since  his  leaving  the  hotel.  It  was  beginning  to 
grow  dark.  There  were  no  lights  in  the  row  of  wooden  tene¬ 
ments  on  the  left ;  they  did  not  appear  to  have  doors  or  windows. 


10 


The  stone  wall  on  the  right  was  solid  and  opaque.  He  lifted  his 
optical  organs  toward  the  stars ;  the  sky  was  roofed  with  two- 
inch  pine  planks,  not  a  foot  from  the  top  of  his  hat  1  He  was  in  a 
tunnel  under  the  sidewalk  1 

Where  did  it  lead  to  ? — 1 1 — ! — 

The  respectable  citizen  of  Buffalo  leaned  his  elbow  against  a 
rock  and  reflected.  Whether  to  proceed  or  to  retrace  his  foot¬ 
steps  was  the  question  which  came  up  for  consideration.  The 
tunnel  would  lead  him  he  knew  not  whither ;  yet  to  go  back 
would  be  to  take  some  other  unknown,  and  perhaps  worse  route. 
He  had  been  told  that  all  sidewalks  were  very  much  alike  in 
Chicago,  He  resolved  to  proceed. 

There  was  a  faint  glimmer  of  light  in  the  distance,  indicating 
an  outlet  somewhere  in  that  direction.  Toward  this  he  directed  his 
course.  A  few  paces  further  on,  and  that  course  suddenly  took  a  dif¬ 
ferent  direction.  In  excavating  for  a  sewer  the  workmen  had  left 
a  cistern  imcovered,  into  which  the  respectable  citizen  of  Buflalo 
descended.  It  was  about  ten  feet  deep,  with  three  or  four  feet 
of  liquified  earth  at  the  bottom.  The  yielding  nature  of  this  sub¬ 
stance  prevented  the  respectable  citizen  of  Buflalo  from  sustaining 
any  serious  personal  damage. 

Suddenly,  the  subterranean  cavity  resounded  with  the  unearthly 
cry  of  “Helpl”  Then  a  hurried  tramping  of  feet  overhead,  the 
heavy  blows  of  an  axe,  and  a  plank  was  removed  from  the  side¬ 
walk  far  up  above,  A  rope  was  let  down,  which  the  unhappy 
pedestrian  seized,  and  thus  was  he  drawn  upward  to  light  and 
life,  but  not  to  liberty.  He  found  himself  in  the  hands  of  two 
policemen,  who  took  him  to  the  calaboose  and  locked  him  up. 
The  next  morning  he  was  brought  before  the  tribunal  of  police 
and  charged  with  having  been  “  drunk  and  disorderly.”  Hot 
being  able  to  produce  any  witnesses  who  could  prove  the  con¬ 
trary,  and  the  appearance  of  his  dress  being  sorely  against  him, 
the  remarkable  magistrate  adjudged  him  to  pay  a  fine  and  the 
costs.  It  is  believed  that  the  victim  of  a  prejudice  against  stair¬ 
ways  went  home  the  same  day,  resolved  never  again  to  set  foot 
in  Chicago. 

Not  many  days  after  this  sad  occurrence  a  Buffalo  newspaper 
contained  an  anecdote  which  we  have  reason  to  believe  had  some 


11 


not  very  remote  reference  to  the  same  matter.  Says  the  Bufifalo 
editor — 

“A  friend  of  ours  relates  the  following:  Coming  down  Main- 
street  a  day  or  two  since  he  saw  a  respectable-looking  man  in 
front  of  him,  whose  queer  antics  finally  attracted  not  only  his,  but 
the  attention  of  the  passers-by.  He  (the  stranger)  would  walk 
along  as  regularly  as  any  body,  when  all  of  a  sudden  he  would 
lift  up  one  foot,  and  then  the  other,  planting  them  firmly  down  in 
front  of  him,  as  if  afflicted  with  double  spring-halt,  or  as  if  he 
was  accustomed  to  every-day  exercise  on  a  dog-churn  or  tread¬ 
mill.  Then  he  would  look  around  for  a  moment  as  if  bewildered, 
and  then,  apparently  being  unable  to  resist  the  inclination,  he 
would  rush  up  a  neighboring  staircase  and  down  again,  with  in¬ 
conceivable  rapidity,  after  which,  he  would  walk  along  again 
steadily  for  a  short  distance,  when  the  whole  performance  would 
be  repeated.  Our  friend  watched  his  performance  for  some  time, 
until,  finally,  his  curiosity  and  compassion  got  the  better  of  him, ' 
and  rushing  up  to  the  man  and  seizing  him  by  the  collar,  he  said : 
‘My  dear  sir,  what  the  deuce  is  the  matter  with  you?  Are  you 
crazy  ?’  ‘  No !  not  crazy,  ’  said  the  man ;  ‘  only  a  little  confounded ; 

the  fact  is,  I’ve  been  two  months  trying  to  get  the  hang  of  your 
streets,  and  am  not  yet  quite  perfect.’  ” 

But  the  ups  and  do\vns  of  Chicago  have  their  advantages  as 
well  as  disadvantages.  Nothing  is  without  its  uses,  and  the  uses 
of  stairways,  incline-planes,  and  precipices  in  Chicago  are  not 
limited  solely  to  the  accommodation  of  pedestrians.  Their  advan¬ 
tages  are  felt  and  appreciated  in  other  respects. 

It  is  the  remark  of  observant  travelers  that  in  no  American 
hity  do  the  ladies  present  more  divine  charms  of  limb  than  those 
6f  Chicago.  This  fact  is  to  be  accounted  for  upon  strictly  scien¬ 
tific  principles,  and  is  attributable  directly  to  the  ups  and  downs 
of  our  sidewalks.  It  is  a  well-known  fact  in  physiology  that  the 
habitual  exercise  of  any  particular  set  of  muscles  tends  to  the  de¬ 
velopment  of  that  particular  paft  of  the  human  anatomy  in  which 
they  are  situated.  Thus,  the  blacksmith,  by  the  •■long  swinging 
of  his  hammer,  attains  a  wondrous  development  of  arm ;  and  the 
professional  danseuse,  who  nightly  enraptures  the  rabble  by  pois¬ 
ing  herself  upon  the  point  of  her  great  toe,  attains  a  captivating 


12 


development  of  calf.  In  this  process  of  sustaining  the  weight  of 
the  body  upon  the  toes,  which  is  done  continually  in  traversing 
the  ups  and  downs  of  Chicago  sidewalks,  the  gdstrocmeius,  plan- 
taris,  and  soleiis  muscles,  forming  the  calf  of  the  leg,  are  brought 
into  powerful  and  almost  exclusive  exercise.  The  result  is  the  har¬ 
monious  and  beautiful  development  of  that  portion  of  the  body. 

It  is  likewise  a  well-known  physiological  fact,  that  upon  the 
degree  of  development  of  these  muscles  depends  the  elasticity  of 
step  which  lends  to  the  female  carriage  its  most  fascinating  grace. 
Hence,  reasoning  from  effect  to  cause,  those  skilled  in  such  matters 
pretend  to  decide  upon  the  attributes  of  a  lady’s  beauty  from 
witnessing  her  style  in  surmounting  a  sidewalk  stairway.  I  have 
reason  to  suspect,  however,  that  in  many  instances  the  decision 
depends  less  upon  scientific  deductions  than  upon  a  quick  eye  in 
detecting  those  seraphic  charms  which,  on  such  occasions,  the  sex 
so  boldly  and  defiantly  unveil.  On  almost  any  pleasant  afternoon 
a  crowd  of  ardent  admirers  of  female  loveliness  may  be  seen  upon 
some  convenient  street-corner  discussing  nonsense  and  insultingly 
ogling  ladies  as  they  pass  up  or  down  the  neighboring  change  of 
grade.  And  if  the  personnel  of  the  latter  may  be  judged  by  the  style 
in  which  the  feat  is  accomplished,  so  also  do  the  former  reveal  their 
true  character  by  their  remarks  made  on  such  occasions.  The 
gentleman  is  never  seen  in  these  gatherings,  and  if,  perchance,  any 
of  my  lady  readers  in  Chicago  should  mistake  for  one  of  this 
class — 

“That  jewel’d  mass  of  millinery, 

That  oil’d  and  curl’d  Assyrian  bull, 

Smelling  of  musk  and  of  insolence,” 

who  stands  with  his  back  against  the  wall, 

“  Leisurely  tapping  a  glossy  boot,” 

let  them  hereby  be  corrected.  Certainly  all  such  erroneous  esti¬ 
mate  would  vanish  quickly  enough  should  they  overhear  the  re¬ 
mark  the  fellow  makes  as  they  ascend  the  next  stairway.  There 
is  a  wide  difference  between  the  gentleman  and  the  fashionable 
roue.  We  have  shown  these  street  curs  up,  let  the  public  eye 
mark  them. 

But  the  benefits  of  Chicago  ups  and  downs  are  not  limited  to 


CORNER  PUPPIES. 


“  Aw,  clianning  I  a  regular  Venus.” 


14 


the  improvement  of  the  human  anatomy.  In  a  commercial  point 
of  view,  they  serve  to  typify  the  sudden  rises  and  falls  in  the 
market,  whereby  operators  on  ’Change  have  taken  strides  to 
wealth  or  tumbles  to  ruin.  In  a  social  view,  they  reflect  the  ab¬ 
rupt  life-gradations  between  Michigan-avenue  and  the  Sands,  Jef¬ 
ferson  Park  and  the  Delta;  even  in  affairs  of  the  heart,  their 
usefulness  is  sometimes  by  no  means  unimportant,  as  the  follow¬ 
ing  sketch  will  illustrate.  The  narrative  is  a  strictly  truthful  one, 
and  the  parties  still  reside  in  this  city,  all  of  them  much  happier 
now  than  they  were  then. 

The  Lovers'  Escape :  A  Terrific  Tale  of  the  Grade. 

CHAPTER  I. — LOW  GRADE. 

Just  as  Phoebus  was  driving  his  horses  and  chariot  into  old 
Erebus’s  boarding  stable  for  the  night;  or  in  other  words,  as  the 
sun  was  disappearing  below  the  western  horizon,  and  the  long 
shadows  on  the  landscape  were  merging  in  the  general  twilight,  a 
man  might  have  been  seen  walking  slowly  along  the  sidewalk  of 
Clark-street. 

The  sight  was  not  one  calculated  to  create  surprise,  inasmuch 
as  a  large  number  of  men  might  have  been  seen  a  few  minutes 
#  later  walking  in  the  same  place. 

The  person,  however,  of  whom  we  speak,  had  passed  the  me¬ 
ridian  of  life,  was  of  tall  and  extensive  proportions,  and  wore  a 
hat  on  his  head,  while  a  thoughtful  expression,  and  a  pair  of  gray 
whiskers  might  have  been  seen  on  the  face  which  the  hat  over¬ 
shadowed. 

His  eyes  were  gray  1 —  1 1 

As  he  walked  slowly  and  thoughtfully  along,  a  close  observer, 
by  the  aid  of  a  spy-glass,  might  have  discovered  a  slight  move¬ 
ment  of  his  lips.  He  was  muttering  something  to  himself  1  1 
What  could  it  be  ?  ?  ? 

Presently  he  lifted  up  his  eyes,  which  were  gray,  and  beheld  a 
gate.  He  entered  1  A  few  paces  brought  him  to  the  front  door 
of  a  house. 

As  the  last  faint  glimmers  of  the  setting  sun  disappeared  from 
the  heavens,  that  man’s  coat-tail  disappeared  through  the  door  1 


15 


CHAPTER  II. — UNEYEN  GRADE. 

A  young  and  beautiful  maiden  was  seated  not  far  from  an  open 
window,  through  which  she  gazed  with  curiosity  and  wonder 
upon  the  surging  throng  of  humanity  which  is  supposed  to  flow 
through  Madison-street. 

[To  fully  appreciate  this  supposition  will  require  a  powerful 
effort  of  the  imagination ;  inasmuch  as,  in  its  present  condition, 
nothing  less  than  the  eruption  of  a  volcano  could  by  any  possi¬ 
bility  flow  through  Madison-street.] 

We  said  she  gazed  with  curiosity  and  wonder.  She  was  curious 
to  know  whether  or  not  her  lover  was  among  the  throng,  and  - 
wondered  if  he  intended  to  call  upon  her  that  evening. 

Presently  the  door  of  the  apartment  opened  1 
By  this,  the  reader  will  please  understand  we  intend  to  convey 
the  idea  that  somebody  opened  the  door,  and  not  that  the  door 
opened  itself.  From  tliis  digression  let  us  return  to  our  story. 

The  man  whose  coat-tail  ended  our  last  chapter,  stood  before 
her — “  In  shape  and  gesture  proudly  eminent,  stood  like  a  tower  1 
.  .  .  .  but  his  face  deep  scars  of  thunder  had  intrenched,  and 

care  sat  on  his  faded  cheek ;  but  under  brows  of  dauntless  cour¬ 
age  and  considerate  pride” — were  those  same  gray  eyes !  !  1 
“  Daughter  1”  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  broken  by  emotion,  yet 
betraying  inflexible  determination  of  purpose.  “Daughter!  1” 
“What?!” 

CHAPTER  III. — CHANGE  OP  GRADE. 

That  night  the  maiden  lay  upon  a  restless  pillow.  That  is,  the 
pillow  may  have  been  quiet  enough,  but  the  maiden’s  heart  was 
ill  at  ease.  Her  thoughts  were  with  her  lover,  and  sleep  kept 
aloof  from  her  eyes.  She  counted  the  long  hours  as  they  glided 
away ;  she  heard  the  distant  clock  (in  the  steeple  of  the  Second 
Presbyterian  Church,  Rev.  R.  W.  Patterson,  pastor, )  toll  the  hour 
of  midnight ;  she  listened  till  the  sound  of  the  last  stroke  died 
away  upon  the  still  night  air,  and  then  she  got  up.  Calling  a 
small  African,  who  lodged  in  the  basement,  she  put  a  letter  into 
his  hand,  and  directed  him  to  hasten  with  it  to  the  lodgings  of  her 
lover.  When  the  small  African  was  gone  she  selected  some  things 
from  her  wardrobe  and  walked  silently  forth  into  the  moonlight. 


ir> 


All  was  hushed  and  quiet  as  the  grave,  save  the  barking  of  a 
small  dog  over  the  way,  and  the  tread  of  a  distant  footstep  which 
seemed  hurriedly  approaching.  As  the  sound  of  that  footstep  fell 
upon  the  maiden’s  ear  her  heart  leaped  high  with  joy ! 

It  was  the  footstep  of  her  lover ! 

She  recognized  it  by  his  style  of  going  up  and  dovm  the  stair¬ 
ways  !  1 1 

Nearer  and  still  nearer  came  the  aforesaid  footstep.  The  maiden 
threw  open  wide  the  gate — one  bound —  1 —  1  ! —  ? 

The  lovers  were  clasped  in  each  others  arms  I 

Interesting  tableau  1  ! 

CHAPTER  IV. — HIGH  GRADE. 

The  stillness  of  night  was  fractured  by  the  sound  of  the  town- 
dock  striking  the  dreadful  hour  of  one  ! 

Portentous  sound !  I 

Emerging  from  the  deep  shadow  of  a  house  a  man  might  have 
been  seen  walking  with  rapid  strides  down  the  street. 

In  the  opposite  direction  walked  a  mysterious  looking  person¬ 
age  in  a  plug  hat ! 

One  was  the  man  with  the  coat-tail  and  gray  whiskers ;  the 
other  was  a  policeman. 

They  met !  I  ! ! 

It  is  not  a  usual  thing  to  meet  a  polibeman  in  Chicago. 

“  My  friend,”  said  the  former,  “  you  know  not  the  feelings  of  a 
father !  My  daughter,  sir,  is  gone  ! — gone,  sir  I — yes,  sir,  eloped  1 
— with  a  cussed  scoundrel,  sir.  Sir,  it  was  no  longer  ago  than  this 
very  night  that  I  forbade  my  daughter  to  encourage  the  rascal — I 
shall  choke,  sir — him,  I  swear — wring  his  neck,  sir!  I” 

“  Which  way  did  they  go,  sir  ?” 

“  How  should  I  know,  sir  ?  Where  are  your  eyes,  sir  ?” 

“  My  eyes  saw  two  persons  on  the  street  just  now,  and  yours 
may  see  them  if  your  legs  are  fast  enough.” 

The  unhappy  father  disappeared  around  the  corner.  The  fugh 
tives  were  before  him,  the  policeman  was  behind.  Heedless  of 
all  else,  he  hastened  to  overtake  them.  Suddenly  they  descended 
to  a  lower  grade.  Easter  r^  the  bereaved  parent.  The  stairway 
was  gone  I !  I 


THE  maiden’s  last  LEAP. 

“  One  bound ! — they  ■were  in  each  other’s  arms.” 


IS 


“  Hold  on  1”  cried  the  policeman. 

This  chapter  ends  at  the  beginning  of  the  book. 

CHAPTER  V. — THE  GRADE  SETTLED. 

The  disconsolate  parent  gathered  himself  up  out  of  the  mud. 

His  neck  was  not  broke  1 ! 

“  My  friend,”  he  said  to  the  policeman,  “lend  me  your  pistol  I 
1  have  fought  many  duels  in  my  days,  but  never  did  I  know  such 
sweet  revenge  as  that  I’ll  take  of  him  who  robbed  me  of  my 
daughter  1” 

The  lovers  were  not  to  be  found  1 

The  last  that  was  seen  that  night  of  the  unhappy  father,  he  was 
standing  with  his  back  against  a  lamp-post,  and  the  fore-finger  of 
his  right  hand  resting  on  the  trigger  of  the  murderous  weapon. 

It  was  a  fearful  sight  1  I  ! 

Not  far  from  one  o’clock  the  same  nigbt,  his  Reverence  Bishop 
O’ Regan  was  aroused  from  slumber  by  a  young  couple  who  de¬ 
manded,  at  that  unseasonable  hour,  to  be  united  in  the  holy  bonds 
of  wedlock.  The  good  bishop,  finding  that  no  legal  impediment 
was  in  the  way,  performed  the  ceremony,  and  the  new-made  hus¬ 
band  and  wife  went  on  their  way  rejoicing. 

Reconciliation  has  since  placed  the  youthful  pair  and  the  en¬ 
raged  parent  upon  the  same  grade. 

It  has  been  said  on  a  previous  page,  that  the  geographical  ups 
and  downs  of  Chicago  are  typical  of  its  business  as  well  as  social 
character.  To  such  an  extent  is  this  true,  that  there  is,  perhaps, 
no  other  city  in  the  nation,  not  even,  San  Francisco,  where  men 
have  so  suddenly  risen  from  the  low  grade  of  poverty  to  the  high 
grade  of  wealth ;  or  fallen,  by  some  unlucky  venture,  from  the 
top  back  again  to  the  bottom,  and  oftenest,  in  both  cases,  by  a 
process  as  unexpected  by  themselves  as  by  any  of  those  about 
them.  Numerous  interesting  instances  might  be  cited  to  illustrate 
what  is  here  said ;  indeed,  a  volume  the  size  of  this  would  not 
hold  the  half  of  them ;  but  we  must  be  content  with  giving  a 
single  instance,  for  the  truth  of  which  we  can  vouch  in  every  par-  • 
ticular : 

A  produce  operator  from  Watertown,  New  York,  watching  the 


19 


sigTis  of  the  times,  and  arguing  that  when  wheat  was  down  to 
sixty  cents  and  com  to  thirty-five  and  forty,  in  Chicago,  they 
could  not  go  much  lower,  came  to  this  city  and  invested  his 
“  pile,”  some  thirty  thousand  dollars,  all  in  “  stub-tail”  com. 
This  corn  is  the  Illinois  growth  of  1851,  and  is  called  “stub-tail” 
because  about  one-third  of  it  is  rotten,  fit  for  nothing  but  to  make 
whisky,  and  be  converted,  by  its  New  York  purchasers,  into 
“  lack-tail  fiuid.”  Our  operator  bought  it  at  a  very  low  figure,  and 
had  it  all  put  into  one  pile  in  a  warehouse,  where  it  was  to  wait 
a  “rise.”  Several  days  elapsed  and  there  was  no  inquiry  for 
“  stub-tail.”  He  played  billiards,  rode  around  the  city,  and  occa¬ 
sionally  took  a  “nipper”  by  way  of  keeping  his  courage  up.  At 
length  he  was  informed  that  his  com  was  heating.  He  examined 
the  pile  and  found  it  “hot  as  Hades.'’'  His  hopes  went  down 
to  the  lowest  grade  in  a  twinkling ;  and  supposing  all  was  over 
with  him,  he  went  off  on  a  “  bender,”  and  for  a  month  did  not 
know  “  stub-tail”  from  green  peas.  At  length  he  “  cooled  off,” 
and  on  examining  his  com  again,  found  that  it  had  cooled  off  also, 
and  was  not  damaged  a  whit.  He  looked  at  the  market  reports, 
and  found  the  price  of  com  had  so  risen  that  he  was  enabled 
without  difficulty  to  sell  his  “  stub-tail”  at  a  profit  of  eleven  thovr 
sand  tight  hundred  dollars  ! 

To  find  a  level  in  Chicago  every  thing  must  come  up  to  the 
“  high  grade.” 


CHAPTER  II. 


Wats  whereby  Travelers  are  Caught. 

The  “ups  and  downs”  of- Chicago  furnish  not  the  only  traps  into 
which  strangers  are  liable  to  fall.  Every  train  upon  its  arrival  in 
Chicago  is  beset  by  a  swarm  of  “  runners,”  “baggage-smashers,” 
hack-drivers,  “scalpers,”  and  rascals  of  various  other  sorts  who 
ply  their  several  callings  in  a  manner  to  make  Bedlam  a  quiet  and 
peaceable  place  by  comparison.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  in¬ 
nocent  traveler  ,  who  places  trust  in  the  tender  mercies  of  any  of 
these  scamps,  will  have  reason  to  repent  his  superabundant  faith 
in  human  nature. 

Hotel-runners  are  now  employed  only  by  houses  of  a  lower 
class,  and  are  more  properly  designated  by  the  term  “  emigrant- 
runners.”  All  the  better  class  of  hotels  have  long  since  dispensed 
with  their  services.  They  are  stiU  employed,  however,  by  the 
emigrant  taverns  and  (would  we  were  not  obliged  to  say  it)  the 
railroads.  With  the  latter,  their  field  of  operations  is  now  limited 
exclusively  to  emigrants. 

Closely  allied  to  the  runner  is  the  “scalper,”  who,  however,  is 
not  licensed,  as  is  the  former,  but  operates  as  an  outlaw,  clandes¬ 
tinely.  The  “  scalper”  is  not,  as  his  name  might  lead  the  unin¬ 
itiated  to  suppose,  one  of  those  aboriginal  inhabitants  of  this 
country  who  were  wont  to  abstract  a  piece  of  skin  from  the 
cranium  of  their  victims.  He  is  a  fellow  who  sneaks  about  the 
railway  stations  and  docks  to  decoy  strangers  into  hackney 
coaches,  for  the  purpose  of  skinning.  He  is  very  frequently  a 
hack-driver  who  has  had  his  license  taken  away  for  some  act  of 
crime  or  rascality.  He  is  always  found  operating  in  conjunction 
with  some  hackman  who  has  the  disposition  to  steal,  but  is  afraid 
of  being  caught  at  it.  Hence,  his  business  is  to  dodge  the  officers, 
as  well  as  to  pick  up  verdant  strangers.  For  the  latter  service, 


21 


he  is  entitled  to  a  division  of  the  profits  with  the  hackman  into 
whose  carriage  he  puts  his  customer.  He  is  never  in  the  service 
of  any  particular  hack;  but,  having  picked  up  his  customer, 
usually  puts  him  into  the  first  one  he  meets,  knowing  that  the 
custom  of  his  vocation  will  insure  him  his  percentage  of  the 
profits. 

The  traps  whereby  the  “scalper”  catches  his  victim  are  various. 
Sometimes  he  pretends  to  be  the  agent  of  a  hotel,  sometimes  of  an 
omnibus  line,  sometimes  of  a  railroad.  Like  Mephistopheles,  the 
character  in  which  he  appears  depends  upon  the  character  and 
purpose  of  his  victim.  Does  he  meet  Young  Innocent  at  the  depot 
with  an  omnibus  ticket  purchased  on  the  train,  he  kindly  offers  to 
show  him  the  ’bus ;  but,  instead  of  doing  so,  conducts  him  to  the 
hackney-coach  of  his  friend.  The  hack  carries  him  to  a  hotel,  where 
the  driver  puts  him  down  and  demands  his  fare,  frequently  a  sum 
greater  than  the  legal  rate.  Young  Innocent  presents  the  omnibus 
ticket,  which  the  hackman  of  course  refuses,  and  threatens  if  he 
does  not  pay  to  have  him  arrested.  The  threat  is  frequently  car¬ 
ried  out,  the  hackman  himself  seizing  his  victim,  and  taking  him 
before  some  stupid  or  unscrupulous  magistrate  (of  which  there  are 
many  in  Chicago),  who  proceeds  to  render  judgment  against  the 
victim,  and  if  not  paid,  with  a  smart  bill  of  costs,  issues  a  ca.  sa. 
for  his  commitment  to  jail. 

This  is  one  of  the  milder  forms  of  “scalping,”  as  practiced  by 
these  unprincipled  rogues.  When  a  “seed”  of  the  right  sort  is 
obtained,  instead  of  a  hotel,  he  is  conveyed  to  some  house  of  ill- 
fame,  wdiere  he  is  “scalped” — completely  skinned,  more  fre¬ 
quently — by  means  of  drugged  liquor ;  or  is  driven  to  some  ob¬ 
scure  locality,  w'^here,  after  being  robbed,  he  is  left  to  find  his  way, 
as  best  he  can,  back  to  more  friendly  society.  An  instance  oc¬ 
curred  not  long  since,  in  which  a  very  respectable  lady,  eighteen 
years  of  age,  en  route  from  the  East  to  friends  in  St.  Louis,  fell 
into  the  hands  of  one  of  these  scoundrels.  She  met  him  on  her 
arrival  at  tiie  depot,  where  he  represented  himself  to  be  acting  as 
agent  for  the  Chicago  and  St.  Louis  Eailroad,  and,  by  his  repre¬ 
sentations,  was  induced  to  give  him  her  baggage  checks  and 
fifteen  dollars  in  money,  to  buy  tickets  for  St.  Louis.  He  then 
left  her  for  a  short  time,  and  soon  returned  with  a  carriage  to 


22 


convey  her  to  a  hotel,  where  she  could  remain  until  the  train 
started,  or,  “as  he  would  advise,”  until  morning.  At  this  she 
took  the  alarm,  declined  acting  upon  his  advice,  and  commenced 
making  efforts  to  recover  her  baggage  and  money.  Suddenly  the 
pretended  railroad  agent  was  missing.  The  young  lady  proceeded 
to  lay  the  matter  before  the  gentlemen  in  the  depot  office,  who 
engaged  an  officer,  and  succeeded,  after  much  difficulty,  in  tracing 
the  lady’s  baggage  to  a  hotel  of  low  character,  where  it  was 
ascertained  the  person  who  came  with  it  had  engaged  a  room  for 
“himself  and  wife.”  The  baggage  was  recovered,  but  the  villain 
escaped,  taking  with  him  the  fifteen  dollars  which  the  lady  had 
given  him  to  buy  her  passage  ticket. 

Very  frequently  in  these  cases  the  parties  are  victimized  through 
their  own  folly.  It  is  not  always  among  “  greenhorns”  that  these 
sharpers  find  their  dupes ;  but  oftenest,  perhaps,  among  a  class 
of  strangers  who  are  curious  to  “see  the  city;”  for  the  city,  be  it 
known,  is  not  to  be  seen  at  a  glance,  except  on  the  outside.  Our 
friend  Allspice  is  one  of  these  curiosity-loving  individuals,  yet  he 
is  by  no  means  a  “  Johnny  Raw.”  '  Allspice  is  a  lawyer.  Although 
his  briefs  may  not  be  all  spice,  it  would  be  easy,  by  quoting  a 
familiar  maxim  about  brevity,  to  show  that  they  are  the  very 
“soul  of  wit.”  Therefore,  in  the  neighborhood  where  he  lives, 
Allspice  is  regarded  as  “a  sharp”  young  man,  in  contradistin- 
guishment,  probably,  from  “a  fiat.” 

But,  living  in  the  country.  Allspice  is  unused  to  city  ways.  In 
his  home  village,  near  the  Mississippi,  there  are  no  novelties  or 
marvels  to  awaken  interest  or  excite  imagination.  There  life 
moves  on  ever  in  the  same  dull  round,  and  the  yesterdays  and  to¬ 
days  are  marked  by  no  event  which  will  not  occur  again  to-mor¬ 
row.  ‘There  the  people  are  all  pious,  the  men  honest,  and  the 
women  virtuous;  and  there  are  no  hack-drivers  to  perform  for 
strangers  the  office  of  the  righteous  man,  to  whom  it  was  said,  “I 
was  a  stranger,  and  ye  took  me  in'' 

Allspice  came  to  Chicago,  It  was  his  first  visit  since  the 
“metropolis  of  the  northwest”  had  grown  out  of  its  swaddling 
clothes,  and  he  felt  a  yearning  in  his  heart  (or  in  that  neighbor¬ 
hood)  to  see  how  all  parts  of  a  great  city  looked.  So  he  stepped 
out  of  his  hotel,  walked  along  the  pavement,  and  gazed  up  at  the 


23 


tall  buildings  over  the  way.  Presently  Allspice  met  a  hackman, 
who,  with  the  intuitive  perception  for  which  all  rascals  are  remark¬ 
able,  discovered  and  weighed  the  character,  caliber,  locality,  and, 
for  aught  we  know,  biography  of  our  hero,  at  a  glance.  “  Have 
a  carriage  ?”  modestly  inquired  the  hack-driver.  Allspice  said  he 
would,  and  getting  into  the  vehicle,  requested  Jehu  to  drive  about 
the  city  for  an  hour  or  two.  The  carriage  rolled  away.  Our 
friend  gazed  through  the  open  window  upon  long  rows  of  stately 
buildings,  wherein  trade  and  enterprise  were  busy,  preparing  the 
way  for  longer  and  statelier  rows  beyond.  These  were  passed, 
and  then  came  into  view  humbler  and  more  primitive  tenements, 
not  a  few  of  which  once  occupied  the  sites  of  their  more  ambitious 
successors.  And  then  still  humbler  tenements — mere  sheds,  some 
of  them — which  it  seemed  a  single  blast  of  wind  might  sweep  from 
their  sandy  foundations.  The  carriage  stopped,  and  the  driver, 
dismounting,  opened  the  door.  He  proceeded  to  inform  Mr. 
Allspice  that  he  could  remain  in  the  carriage  while  he  watered 
his  horses,  or,  if  he  desired  to  see  some  of  the  fancy  inhabitants 
of  the  locality,  he  could  dismount.  Allspice  said  the  latter  would 
please  him  best,  provided  there  was  no  danger.  Being  assured 
that  there  was  no  danger  he  dismounted,  purchased  a  cigar,  and 
proceeded  to  the  investigation  of  the  mysteries  of  that .  noted  lo¬ 
cality  called  the  Sands. 

In  the  first  house  he  entered  a  woman  approached  him  very 
affectionately,  and  invited  him  to  treat  The  bewitching  tongue 
of  the  fascinating  creature,  assisted  somewhat  by  Allspice’s  native 
gallantry,  prevailed.  He  ordered  a  bottle  of  wine.  The  fascina¬ 
ting  creature  and  himself  drank  it — at  least,  so  he  supposes. 

What  transpired  afterward  our  friend  found  it  difficult  to  relate, 
such  were  the  potent  effects  of  the  drugged  liquor.  He  remem¬ 
bers  quite  distinctly,  however,  that  he  paid  five  dollars  for  the 
wine,  and  six  dollars  to  the  hackman  for  getting  him  into  the 
scrape.  What  further  service  the  fellow  performed  for  him  he 
does  not  know ;  but  he  remembers  that  he  was  arrested  and  taken 
before  a  North  Division  magistrate,  who  gave  judgment  against 
him,  in  the  hackman’s  favor,  for  four  dollars  damages  and  seven 
dollars  costs.  About  this  time  he  began  to  come  to  his  senses, 
and  discovered  that  all  his  money  was  gone.  He  informed  the 


24 


court  that  he  was  a  lawyer,  and  requested  permission  to  make  a 
statement  in  regard  to  the  case.  The  court  declined  to  grant  the 
request.  Allspice  began  to  get  mad,  and  the  hackman  volunteering 
some  statement  with  reference  to  his  claim  for  services,  he  threat¬ 
ened  to  knock  him  on  the  head  with  his  cane.  Por  this  the  court 
fined  him  five  dollars  and  costs,  for  assault  and  battery.  He 
remonstrated  with  the  court  upon  the  injustice  of  such  a  proceed¬ 
ing,  and  finding  argument  of  no  avail,  intimated  that  he  would 
kick  the  court  down  stairs.  Por  this  the  court  fined  him  five  dol¬ 
lars  and  costs,  for  contempt,  and  ordered  him  to  be  committed 
until  the  several  fines  and  judgments  were  paid.  Having  not  a 
cent  left.  Allspice  was  given  into  the  custody  of  an  officer,  who 
departed  with  him  for  the  jail.  On  the  way,  Allspice  succeeded 
in  moving  the  officer  to  compassion,  and  induced  him  to  accept 
Ms  baggage  and  gold-headed  cane  as  security  for  the  amount  of 
his  indebtedness,  until  he  could  find  some  friend  who  would  lend 
him  the  money.  This  he  at  length  succeeded  in  doing,  and  bor¬ 
rowed  a  sufficient  sum  to  get  himself  out  of  the  scrape  and  pay 
his  fare  home,  from  which  he  expressed  a  determination  never 
again  to  depart  without  letting  his  maternal  ancestor  know  that 
he  was  out. 

Editors  are  considered  to  be,  usually,  well  posted  in  the  rascali¬ 
ties  of  the  world — political  editors,  especially.  Yet  even  persons 
of  this  class  do  not  enjoy  immunity  from  the  dangers  which  beset 
unhappy  humanity  in  the  city.  The  editor  of  a  newspaper,  pub¬ 
lished  in  one  of  the  interior  towns  of  Illinois,  being  in  the  city 
some  weeks  ago,  was  desirous  of  acquainting  himself  with  some 
facts  in  city  life,  upon  which  he  might  write  an  interesting  chapter 
for  his  readers.  In  the  course  of  his  investigations  he  feU  in  com¬ 
pany  with  a  number  of  “jolly  good  fellows,”  with  whom  he  visited 
various  localities,  and  became  acquainted  with  quite  a  number  of 
very  interesting  facts.  Among  the  rest  was  the  fact  which  dis¬ 
closed  itself,  considerably  to  his  astonishment,  the  next  morning^ 
when  he  awoke  and  found  himself  in  bed  in  a  strange  room,  in  a 
strange  house,  with  his  boots  on  I  Upon  making  further  investi¬ 
gations,  he  discovered  that  his  watch  and  money,  which  he  was 
conscious  of  having  had  the  night  previous,  were  among  the 


THE  LmiT  PASSED, 
Allspice  gets  macL 


26 


things  which  he  had  not  then.  He  went  home ;  but  the  chapter 
on  life  in  Chicago  did  not  appear. 

A  very  common  trick  with  hackmen  and  scalpers  is  for  the 
latter  to  play  the  part  of  a  passenger,  and  “  rope  in”  upon  the 
unsuspecting  stranger,  whereby  the  latter  is  made  to  pay  for  both. 
A  successful  game  of  this  sort  was  played  upon  a  commission 
merchant  of  Joliet,  who  is  reputed  to  be  one  of  the  shrewdest 
business  men  in  the  state.  The  facts  were  brought  out  in  court, 
where  Mr.  Produce — still  slightly  under  “  exhilirating  influ¬ 
ences” — told  his  story  on  the  witness  stand. 

“Your  honor.  I’ll  tell  you  how  it  was.  I  got  into  this  fellow’s 
hack,  at  the  Illinois  Central  depot,  very  early  in  the  morning.  It 
was  before  daylight.  He  drove  me  to  a  crib  down  on  Clark-street, 
where  we  got  out  and  took  several  drinks.  Then  he  drove  to  the 
Bull’s  Head  and  back  again.  I  paid  him  flve  dollars,  lent  him  two 
dollars,  and  he  stole  my  overcoat.  But,  Judge,  I  don’t  make  any 
charge  about  the  two  dollars  or  the  overcoat.” 

Accused.  “  Didn’t  you  have  to  pay  for  your  friend  ?” 

Witness.  “  Priend !  I  didn’t  have  any  friend  1  There  was  a 
little,  thick-set  man,  a  confounded  sight  drunker  than  I  was,  who 
roped  in  on  me,  but  I  didn’t  know  him.  I’U  tell  you.  Judge,  how 
it  was.  This  hackman  drove  up  to  a  crib  on  Clark-street,  where 
we  had  a  good  many  drinks.  Then  I  told  him  to  drive  out  to  the 
Bull’s  Head,  There  was  a  little,  thick-set  man  who  wanted  to 
rope  in.  I  knew  I  could  lick  Mm,  and  so  I  let  him  go  along. 
When  we  got  out  to  the  Bull’s  Head  this  hackman  wanted  me  to 
pay  him  five  dollars.  I  told  him  I  would  pay  three  dollars  then, 
and  two  dollars  more  when  we  got  back.  We  argued  the  question 
a  while,  and  finally  I  took  out  a  ten-dollar  bill  and  gave  it  to  him. 
He  gave  me  back  a  five,  which  wasn’t  worth  shucks.  Now,  says 
I  to  him,  you’re  a  cussed  scoundrel,  but  I  wouldn’t  refuse  to  lend 
you  two  dollars  for  a  minute.  Well,  says  he,  lend  me  two  dollars, 
and,  by  Jupiter  1  I  lent  it  to  him!  He  brought  us  back  down 
town,  and  I  went  to  get  my  overcoat,  and  couldn’t  find  it.  By 
and  by,  a  man  who  is  teller  in  the  Drover’s  Bank  saw  this  fellow 
with  my  coat  on,  and  my  handkerchief  sticking  out  of  the  pocket, 
and  says  he,  there’s  your  coat.  Then  this  fellow  pulled  off  the 
coat,  threw  it  down,  and  ran  like  a  quarter-horse.  A  lot  of  men 


27 


and  police — about  two  hundred— chased  him  and  caught  him. 
Now,  says  I  to  him,  I  want  that  two  dollars.  He  tried  to  borrow 
it,  but  none  of  them  would  lend,  and  then  he  pulled  the  money . 
out  of  his  pocket  and  paid  me.  Now,  Judge,  I  don’t  want  you  to 
be  hard  on  him — ^you  know,  Mr.  Hack-driver,  I  wouldn’t  have 
staid  here  to  swear  against  you,  but  the  police  wouldn’t  let  me 
go.  Just  be  as  easy  on  him  as  you  can.  Judge.  I  haven’t  got 
any  thing  against  him ;  but,  by  thunder,  he  did  steal  ray  coat  1” 

The  fraternity  of  hack-driving  and  scalfung  scoundrels  rely  for 
safety  in  their  nefarious  operations  upon  the  fact  that  their  victim 
is  a  stranger,  passing  through  the  city,  who  cannot,  or  will  not, 
submit  to  the  delay  and  expense  it  would  require  to  prosecute 
them.  The  consequence  is,  not  one  in  ten  of  these  cases  is  brought 
to  light.  And  even  in  those  which  do  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  authorities,  the  chances  are  three  to  one  that  the  prosecuting 
witness  cannot  be  got  when  the  case  comes  to  triaL  The  rascals 
understand  this,  and  know  very  well  their  chances  of  punishment 
are  not  as  one  in  twenty  to  their  chances  of  escape.  A  few  years 
ago,  a  farmer  named  Ephraim  Blanchard  was  robbed  by  one  of 
the  most  successful,  as  well  as  notorious,  of  these  rogues,  who, 
under  pretense  of  taking  him  to  the  house  of  a  brother,  drove  to 
a  notorious  house  of  ill-fame.  The  hackman  was  arrested,  and 
the  money,  some  seventy  dollars,  was  found  concealed  in  his  bed. 
Blanchard,  however,  left;  the  city,  and  could  not  afterward  be 
found-  Should  this  happen  to  meet  his  eye,  he  is  requested  Jo 
send  his  address  to  the  captain  of  police,  Chicago. 

It  is  a  very  rare  thing  that  citizens  are  subjected  to  these  out¬ 
rages  ;  one  reason  for  which  may  be,  perhaps,  the  fact  that  respect¬ 
able  citizens  seldom  patronize  hackmen.  Their  chief  subsistence, 
outside  of  what  they  manage  to  get,  honestly  and  dishonestly, 
from  strangers,  is  drawn  from  the  patrons  and  inmates  of  houses 
of  Dl-fame.  There  are,  doubtless,  among  them  some  honest  and 
upright  men,  who  sufler  in  reputation  for  the  rascality  of  their 
associates ;  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  a  line  of  demarkation 
cannot  be  drawn,  as  well  for  the  benefit  of  the  public  as  for  the 
men  who  are  making  a  living  honestly  in  this  business.  But, 
under  the  circumstances,  we  feel  it  to  be  our  duty  to  advise  stran¬ 
gers  to  be  waiy  in  trusting  them.  Above  aU,  do  not  trust  your- 


28 


self  with  the  hackman  who  solicits  jou  to  ride,  or  asks  you  if  you 
will  “  have  a  carriage.” 

At  the  end  of  this  book,  the  reader  will  find  a  synopsis  of  the 
ordinances  of  the  city  regulating  hackmen,  omnibusmen,  porters, 
etc.,  together  with  the  rates  of  charges  as  established  by  law.  With 
this  book  in  his  possession,  he  may  always  know  what  is  right 
and  legal  in  the  premises. 


CHAPTER  in. 


Land  Speculators. 

Spbcttlatb,  V.  L  To  think  philosophically;  to  meditate. 
gpECULATOB,  n.  One  who  speculates. — Webster. 

What  a  host  of  meditative  philosophers  doth  Chicago  coutainl 
Veritable  Isaac  Newtons,  every  mother’s  son  them;  for  not  one 
Bees  an  apple  fall  to  the  ground  without  meditating  upon  the 
property  in  the  ground  before  tasting  the  golden  fruit.  As  thus, 
syllogistically :  The  earth  is  necessary  for  man’s  support ;  there¬ 
fore,  without  it  can  he  not  be  supported ;  therefore,  who  possesseth 
the  earth  hath  the  power  to  make  men  buy  of  him,  or  emigrate  to 
the  moon !  In  that  remote  planet,  the  land  is  supposed  to  be  of 
inferior  quality,  and,  beside,  it  is  not  yet  brought  into  market; 
therefore,  the  inducements  to  emigration  are  but  small ;  therefore, 
will  men  purchase  of  the  earth;  therefore,  who  owneth  it  may 
grow  rich.  Profound  meditative  philosophers ! — Astute  specula¬ 
tive  logicians  1 

The  philosophy  of  speculation  is  a  department  of  human  knowl¬ 
edge  upon  which  we  do  not  propose  to  enter,  although  a  useful 
and  entertaining  volume  might  unquestionably  be  written  there¬ 
upon.  Our  purpose  at  present  is  but  to  point  out  to  the  honest 
emigrant,  and  to  all  who  may  wish  to  secure  that  much-desired 
object,  a  home  in  the  West,  some  of  the  principal  tricks  to  which 
land  speculators  resort  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining  their  money 
without  giving  a  just  equivalent  therefor.  Throughout  the  West, 
land  speculators  are  prosecuting  their  fraudulent  schemes  wher¬ 
ever  they  can  get  a  foothold.  They  waylay  the  actual  settler  as 
the  highwayman  does  the  traveler,  to  rob  him  of  his  substance. 
After  toiling  hard  at  the  East,  to  lay  up  enough  to  get  here  and 
secure  a  piece  of  land,  the  emigrant  finds,  on  his  arrival,  that  he 
3* 


so 


must  either  settle  far  out  on  the  prairie,  where  no  timber  or  water 
can  be  seen,  or  give  the  speculator  an  unreasonable  price  for  a 
better  location.  This,  we  say,  he  will  often  find  to  be  the  case, 
and  scarcely  ever  will  he  find  it  different,  if  he  does  not  “know 
the  ropes,”  in  a  new  country.  Let  us  suppose  a  case,  which  is 
one  of  very  frequent  occurrence.  Smith,  from  “’way  deown 
East,”  having  sold  his  “place,”  comes  with  the  proceeds  thereof 
to  the  West,  where  he  has  been  told  he  can  buy  a  farm  twice  the 
size  of  that  he  sold,  and  have  enough  money  left  to  furnish  and 
stock  it  in  tip-top  style,  and  put  up  first-class  buildings  into  the 
bargain.  Bather  extravagant  representations  these ;  but  Smith 
has  heard  from  neighbor  Jones,  who  has  been  there,  that  the 
West  is  an  extravagant  country.  One  of  his  first  impressions 
upon  reaching  the  new  Canaan  is  that  neighbor  Jones  was  quite 
right.  He  “puts  up”  at  a  village  tavern — a  village  which  appears 
to  be  about  the  size  of  Pumpkinville,  in  his  native  county — and 
finds  his  bill  in  the  morning  equal  to  the  price  of  a  week’s  board 
in  Pumpkinville.  He  inquires  of  the  landlord  the  name  of  the 
village,  intending  to  avoid  it  on  his  return.  “  Village  1”  exclaims 
Boniface,  thunder-struck  at  his  guest’s  ignorance;  “This,  sir,  is 
Metropolis  City  1’'  Je  whillikins T  thinks  Smith;  “I  don’t  see 
how  it  can  stand  two  such  names  1” 

Should  Smith’s  curiosity  be  still  unsatisfied  in  regard  to  Metrop¬ 
olis  City,  he  inquires  the  price  of  lots.  Hereat  the  landlord’s 
countenance  brightens.  Nothing  can  give  him  greater  pleasure 
than  to  point  out  some  of  the  finest  business  and  residence  lots  in 
the  city,  which,  as  times  are,  can  be  had  for  a  song.  Whereupon 
Smith  is  conducted  through  the  rank  grass,  dreading  rattlesnakes 
at  every  step,  some  quarter  of  a  mile  into  the  prairie,  when  his 
conductor,  having  reached  a  small  stake,  suddenly  stops.  “  Here, 
now,  are  some  splendid  lots,  which  we  are  selling  for  actual  im¬ 
provement,  you  know,  at  twenty-five  dollars  a  foot.  Out  yonder  by 
that  tree,”  pointing  to  a  scrub  oak,  half  a  mile  further  off,  “we  are 
gelling  residence  lots  for  ten  dollars  a  foot.”  Smith  thinks  if  this 
is  what  is  called  selling  for  a  song,  the  tune  it  goes  to  don’t  quite 
suit  him,  and  he  declines  to  purchase. 

But  then — Metropolis  City — it  may  not  be  a  bad  idea  to  get 
a  farm  somewhere  in  the  vicinity  of  so  prophetic  a  name.  Of 


A  QUIET  LOCATION. 

“  Out  yonder  by  that  tree  we're  selling  residence  lots  at  $10  a  /bot.’* 


3 


32 


course,  such  are  Smith’s  thoughts,  as  his  eyes  wander  over  the 
vast  expanse  of  prairie,  upon  which  no  human  habitation  is  visible, 
and  no  mark  of  improvement  has  been  made.  Of  course,  any 
quantity  of  laud  may  be  had,  near  by,  at  government  price.  He 
ventures  to  ask  the  question.  “Government  land!  Why,  my 
dear  sir,  there  isn’t  an  acre  of  government  land  within  a  hundred 
miles  of  here.  All  taken  up  these  five  years.  But  if  you  want  a 
tip-top  farm,  why,  I  know  of  one  I  could  recommend,  at  ten  dol¬ 
lars  an  acre.  It  will  double  in  a  year ;  but — hard  times — owner 
must  have  money.” 

Smith,  Jones,  Brown,  Snooks — whatever  your  name  may  for¬ 
tunately  be — donH  be  a  greenhorn.  This  man  is  a  speculator; 
every  man  in  this  embryo  “metropolis”  is,  in  the  very  nature  of 
things,  a  speculator,  or  the  dupe  of  one.  If  you  wish  to  find 
vacant  lands,  it  is  of  no  use  to  ask  any  stranger,  for  there  is  not 
one  in  a  hundred  (unless  specially  interested)  who  will  not  tell 
you  that  there  is  no  good  land  to  be  had  at  government  price,  even 
while  they  know  the  contrary  to  be  the  fact.  To  ascertain  the 
truth  in  the  matter,  go  to  the  land-office  of  the  district  in  which 
you  wish  to  locate,  examine  the  plots,  and  when  you  have  found 
vacant  land,  get  from  the  register  a  transcript  of  the  survey  of  the 
township  in  which  it  is  situated.  Printed  forms  are  kept  at  every 
land-office  for  this  purpose.  With  this,  if  you  cannot  find  the 
tract  you  wish  to  examine,  you  can  get  a  surveyor  for  a  reasonable 
compensation  to  find  it  for  you. 

There  are  land-agents  in  every  town  throughout  the  West,  and 
to  one  who  is  willing  to  give  correct  information  for  a  reasonable 
compensation,  there  are  ten  who  will  tell  the  new-comer,  in  most 
positive  terms,  that  there  is  no  vacant  land  in  the  vicinity ;  that 
land  is  rapidly  rising  in  price,  etc.  This  is  one  of  the  prominent 
tricks  in  their  trade.  After  they  have,  by  such  representations, 
made  the  stranger  despair  of  getting  a  home  at  all,  they  console 
him  with  the  information  that  they  have  a  quarter-section  which 
they  will  sell  on  reasonable  terms,  and  if  they  succeed  in  selling 
it  to  him,  they  perhaps  go  directly  and  enter  another  quarter- 
section  or  two,  in  the  same  vicinity,  with  the  profits  on  the  one 
sold. 

The  writer  knows  a  land-agent  in  one  of  the  flourishing  “  cities” 


83 


of  Minnesota,  who  sold  forty  acres  of  wild  land  to  a  young  man 
for  three  hundred  and  fifty  dollars,  and  went  directly  and  en¬ 
tered  a  quarter-section  adjoining  the  forty,  thereby  getting  four 
times  as  much  land,  and  better  land,  too,  for  less  money  than  the 
sum  of  w'hich  he  robbed  the  ignorant  and  inexperienced  purchaser. 
In  the  same  state,  the  writer  knows  the  agent  of  a  company  of 
eastern  capitalists,  who  entered  land  to  the  amount  of  three  or 
four  townships,  picking  out  all  the  best  sections  and  leaving  the 
poor  ones  to  the  actual  settler,  in  case  he  should  be  lucky  enough 
to  find  them. 

But  let  us  come  to  speak  of  land  speculators  in  Chicago, 
which,  in  this  respect,  as  in  most  others,  is  a  type  of  the  whole 
West.  It  is  a  growing  city;  there  cannot  be  a  doubt  of  it. 
Whoever  questions  the  truth  of  this  plain  and  simple  proposition 
has  only  to  walk  abroad  in  its  crowded  streets ;  to  gaze  upon  the 
palaces  of  brick,  marble,  and  iron  wdiich  line  them ;  to  behold  the 
tide  of  trade  which  swells  and  dashes  through  them ;  to  follow 
the  ripple  of  its  waves,  rolling  out  in  every  direction,  far  into  the 
horizon-bound  prairie,  and  on  his  return  to  the  “  center  of  busi¬ 
ness,”  to  inquire  the  price  of  lots  in  those  seemingly  remote  locali¬ 
ties  ;  to  look  back,  scarce  half  a  life-time,  and  contrast  the  Potto- 
wottomie  wigwams  which  dotted  the  dreary  plain  with  the  nu¬ 
merous  institutions  of  learning,  art,  and  science  which  have  taken 
root  in  our  soil,  and  are  spreading  their  branches  to  embower  our 
social  structure,  and  then  to  reason  for  a  moment,  from  the  past 
to  the  future,  to  dispel  all  doubts,  and  convince  himself  that 
Chicago  is  a  growing  city. 

But  if,  peradventure,  he  should  require  more  proof,  let  him  hire 
a  horse  and  wagon  (a  stout  wagon  will  be  required,  and  a  horse 
used  to  bad  roads),  and  travel  westward  from  the  court-house  just 
seven  miles.  He  will  then  have  arrived  at  that  portion  of  the  city 
which  has  been  named,  as  we  ascertain  from  a  plot  on  file  at  the 
Recorder’s  Office,  “  Peck’s  Addition  to  Chicago.”  It  is  an  inter¬ 
esting  locality,  and  to  one  who  delights  to  view  the  picturesque 
in  nature,  will  well  repay  a  visit.  Near  it,  on  the  west,  rise  the 
lofty  burr  oaks  of  Oak  Ridge,  towering  in  majestic  grandeur  to  the 
height  of  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet!  At  their  base  fiows  ther 
renowned  and  classic  Eivibre  aux  Plaine,  whose  waters,  swiftly 


u 


gliding  toward  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  move  at  the  rate  of  at  least 
four  miles  a  day,  and  bear  on  their  placid  bosom  an  emerald- 
colored  substance,  called  “frog-spawn,”  while  naiades,  and  mer¬ 
maids,  and  a  species  of  small  perch  are  supposed  to  disport  them¬ 
selves  beneath.  -  In  all  other  directions  from  this  interesting  spot, 
the  sight  rests  upon  a  grand  unbroken  prairie-scape,  where,  during 
the  summer  months,  innumerable  flowers  reflect  the  smiles  of 
angels,  and  sanguinary  gallinippers  make  music'  in  the  tall  grass  I 
It  is  such  a  scene  as  that  which  inspired  the  poet,  when  he  ex¬ 
claimed  : 

“  And  this  is  freedom !  These  pure  skies 
Were  never  stained  with  village  smoke ; 

The  fragrant  wind  that  through  them  hies, 

Bears  breath”  which  breathed  is  found  no  joke  1 

But  we  will  not  dwell  upon  the  many  natural  advantages  which 
“  Peck’s  Addition”  possesses  for  those  blessed  with  rural  tastes 
and  strong  constitutions.  Our  purpose  is  only  to  acquaint  the 
unenlightened  reader  with  the  fact  that  such  a  delectable  spot 
exists,  and  is  one  of  the  many  “additions”  to  Chicago,  made  by 
speculators  with  a  view  to  obtaining  fancy  prices  for  their  land. 
The  certificate  of  the  county  judge,  which  appears  upon  the  re¬ 
corded  plot,  is  as  follows : 

“  State  of  Illinois^  Cook  County,  ss. :  I,  Henry  L.  Eucker,  county 
judge  and  ex-officio  justice  of  the  peace  in  and  for  said  county,  do 
hereby  certify  that  Abraham  Yoorhies,  who  is  to  me  personally 
known,  this  day  appeared  before  me,  and  as  the  agent  and  attor¬ 
ney  in  fact  of  Aaron  Peck,  proprietor  of  the  lands  designated  on 
this  map  or  plat,  acknowledged  said  map  as  the  map  or  plat  of 
said  Peck,  and  also  that  he  had,  as  agent  of  said  Peck,  caused  said 
lands  to  be  subdivided  and  platted  as  herein  indicated. 

“  Given  under  my  hand  and  seal  of  office  this  third  of  November, 
1856.  “Heney  L.  Eucker.” 

Now  the  “lands  designated  on  this  map  or  plat”  are  the  south¬ 
east  quarter  of  section  32,  township  40,  north  of  range  13,  and,  as 
the  reader  may  see  upon  any  sectional  map  of  Illinois,  are  situated 
seven  miles  west,  and  two  or  three  miles  north,  of  the  city,  in  the 


35 


town  of  Jefferson.  The  whole  160  acres  is  subdivided  into  lots 
of  twenty-five  feet  front  by  one  hundred  feet  in  depth,  comprising 
1,937  lots.  Fourteen  streets  appear  on  the  plat  (not  on  the  land), 
which  rejoice  in  the  suggestive  names  of  Fairview  (on  account  of 
the  picturesque  scenery),  Galena,  Dresden,  Frankfort  (“distance 
lends  enchantment”),  Kossuth,  Gold,  etc.  But  the  most  surprising 
fact  connected  with  this  matter  is,  that  lots  in  this  “addition,” 
seven  miles  from  Chicago,  are  selling  in  New  York  for  ieji  dollars 
a  front  foot^  or  $250  a  lot.  Equally  good  land  in  the  same  vicinity 
.can  be  bought  for  fifty  dollars  an  acre.  Thus  the  total  value  of 
this  quarter-section  is  $8,000.  But,  as  the  lots  have  been  sold, 
the  enterprising  Mr.  Peck,  provided  he  can  sell  them  all,  will 
realize  the  snug  sum  of  $484,250.  Upward  of  $125,000  worth  of 
these  prairie  lots  have  already  been  sold,  as  appears  from  the  deeds 
recorded  in  this  city,  which  embraces  only  about  one-fourth  of  the 
“addition.” 

But  how,  the  reader  may  ask,  is  it  possible  that  any  one  can  be 
so  great  a  fool  as  to  buy  this  property  at  a  price  so  enormously 
aljove  its  value  ?  The  question  we  cannot  answer.  People  in  the 
West  do  not  buy  it ;  only  those  of  the  East  who  have  an  abiding 
faith  in  the  honesty  of  mankind,  and  unwavering  confidence  in  all 
the  bombastic  statements  they  hear  and  read  about  the  tremen¬ 
dous  destiny  of  Chicago,  are  green  enough  to  be  sold  in  the  making 
of  such  purchases.  The  enterprising  Mr.  Aaron  Peck  is  under¬ 
stood  to  be  a  resident  of  New  Jersey,  and,  for  aught  that  appears, 
may  be  a  lineal  descendant  of  the  ancient  Pavonian  land  specu¬ 
lator,  Oloffe  the  Dreamer,  whose  dreams  (as  saith  the  veracious 
Knickerbocker  historian)  turned  the  heads  of  the  honest  burghers 
of  Communipaw  to  the  island  of  Manna-hata,  and  caused  them  to 
purchase  of  the  town  lots,  into  which  was  divided  so  much  land 
as  a  bulbous-bottomed  Dutchman  could  cover  with  his  ten  pairs 
of  breeches — which  was  the  beginning  of  the  present  city  of  New 
York.  Having  seen  what  glorious  results  came  of  the  dreamings 
of  Oloffe,  it  is  not,  perhaps,  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  honest 
Knickerbockers  should  still  have  confidence  in  the  speculating* 
schemes  of  his  descendant,  insomuch  that  they  pay  him  an  hun¬ 
dred-fold  of  its  real  worth  for  narrow  strips  of  wild  land  seven 
miles  out  of  Chicago.  Possibly  they  may  believe  that  the  city 


86 


will  one  daj  move  thither,  as  the  great  metropolis  moved  from 
Communipaw  to  Nieuw  Amsterdam. 

Stimulated  by  the  success  of  the  enterprising  proprietor  of 
“Peck’s  Addition,”  other  enterprising  gentlemen,  owning  farms 
in  Cook  County,  have  had  them  subdivided  into  lots  and  recorded 
as  “additions”  to  Chicago.  Probably  every  foot  of  land  that  ad¬ 
joins  the  city  limits  has  been  thus  laid  out ;  but  this  may  be  said 
to  approximate  the  nature,  as  well  as  the  name,  of  “addition.” 
We  shall  speak  only  of  the  “New  Orleans”  and  “St.  Paul”  addi¬ 
tions,  as  they  are  sometimes  satirically  called,  on  account  of  their 
relative  situations. 

Price’s  subdivision  of  the  southwest  quarter  of  section  26,  town¬ 
ship  38,  range  13,  contains  about  2,000  lots.  This  desirable  and 
fertile  portion  of  Chicago  is  ten  miles  from  the  city,  in  a  south¬ 
westerly  direction,  in  the  town  of  Lake.  In  this  delectable  spot 
we  find  (on  the  map)  the  names  of  streets,  suggesting  more  vari¬ 
eties  of  timber  than  ever  grew  in  Illinois.  What  cooling  shade 
might  not  the  travel-tired  emigrant  find  in  such  umbrageous 
avenues  as  Maple,  Elm,  Locust,  Poplar,  Pine,  Cherry,  Cedar, 
Walnut,  Oak,  were  it  not  that  a  few  scrub  oaks  constitute  all  the 
timber  that  grows  anywhere  in  the  neighborhood?  Lots  25  by 
100  feet  in  this  secluded  spot  are  sold,  whenever  any  one  green 
enough  to  purchase  can  be  found,  at  about  the  same  rate  as  in 
Peck’s  Addition.  The  land,  at  the  market  value,  is  worth  not  to 
exceed  $40  an  acre.  The  number  of  lots  that  have  been  sold  in 
this  subdivision  is  yet  comparatively  few. 

“  Minnehaha  Addition”  consists  of  forty  acres  in  the  southeast 
quarter  of  section  2,  township  38,  range  13.  It  contains  ten 
blocks,  divided  into  lots  24  by  150  feet.  The  distance  from 
Chicago  is  about  seven  miles,  and  the  land  is  worth  about  $50  or 
$60  an  acre.  The  lots,  however,  are  held  at  from  $200  to  $300 
each,  at  which  a  considerable  number  have  been  sold — an  aggre¬ 
gate  of  more  than  the  value  of  the  whole  tract.  What  induce¬ 
ments  to  purchasers  are  not  here  held  out  ? — where  nature  wreaths 
her  fiat,  expressionless  face  in  flowers,  and  even  the  lanes  and 
alleys  of  the  budding  city  speak  of  glorious  fruitfulness !  Here  we 
have  Strawberry-alley,  Blackberry-alley,  .ffuc/r^eberry-alley.  May- 
berry-alley,  .Roseberry-alley,  i)ei/;berry-alley.  Plumpudding-alley  I 


87 


What  a  variety  of  plums  in  so  very  questionable  a  pudding  I — as 
those  who  seek  here  for  the  means  of  paying  for  the  pudding  will 
surely  find. 

These  “  additions”  look  well  on  paper — which,  in  truth,  is  the 
only  place  where  they  do  look  well.  They  are  gotten  up  to  be 
exhibited  on  paper,  and  sold  on  paper,  like  “fancies”  in  the  stock- 
market,  solely  for  the  purposes  of  speculation. 

An  excuse  which  the  speculators  might,  perhaps,  offer  for  these 
fancy  town-lot  operations,  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  much  of 
the  land  in  what  is  known  as  the  Calumet  region,  eight  or  ten 
miles  south  of  the  city,  is  worthless  for  any  other  purpose,  being 
covered,  a  great  portion  of  the  year,  by  water.  To  give  the  stran¬ 
ger  some  idea  of  the  light  in  which  it  was  regarded,  a  few  years 
ago,  as  vrell  as  to  illustrate  still  another  trick  of  the  speculators, 
we  narrate  an  occurrence  which  then  took  place.  An  enterprising 
capitalist  of  “  deown  east”  (whose  name  might  have  been  Spon- 
dulix,  had  he  petitioned  the  Legislature  so  to  change  it,  from  the 
more  euphonious  pronominal  appellation  which  he  inherited), 
hearing  and  reading  much  about  the  quick  fortunes  that  were 
amassed  in  western  land  speculations,  became  rabid  on  the  sub¬ 
ject,  and  determined  to  try  his  luck.  Accordingly,  he  wrote  to  a 
Chicago  land-agent,  whose  published  references  were  of  a  satisfac¬ 
tory  character,  giving  him  direction  to  invest  for  him  a  considerable 
sum  in  lands  near  the  city,  “which  would  be  sure  to  rise.”  The 
agent  executed  the  commission  in  the  most  literal  manner,  select¬ 
ing  lands  which  he  was  sure  would  rise  in  one  way,  if  they  did 
not  in  another.  If  the  value  did  not  rise,  the  water  would.  Then, 
writing  to  his  principal,  he  informed  him  that  he  had  made  a 
splendid  investment ;  one  which  could  not  fail ;  sure  of  a  rise  as 
soon  as  the  spring  opened.  Spondulix  rubbed  his  hands  in  glee, 
built  golden  castles  in  the  air  during  the  winder,  and  when  the 
spring  opened  came  out  to  look  at  his  purchase,  with  his  title 
papers  snug  in  his  pocket.  Finding  the  speculator,  he  questioned 
him  in  regard  to  the  land.  Speculator  assured  him  it  was  all 
right.  Spondulix  wanted  to  see  it ;  wanted  to  know  how  it  lay ; 
to  see  if  no  thieving  rascal  had  been  cutting  the  timber,  or  other¬ 
wise  trespassing  thereupon.  Speculator  appeared  somewhat  re¬ 
luctant  ;  had  too  much  business  on  hand ;  could  not  go.  Spon- 


> 


dulix  was  importunate ;  speculator  at  length  consented  to  go,  re¬ 
marking  that  so  much  rain  had  made  the  roads  horrible.  They 
proceeded  southward  in  a  buggy  as  far  as  it  was  possible  to  drive 
the  horse  in  safety,  and  then  leaving  the  vehicle,  continued  the 
journey  on  foot.  The  speculator  walked  in  advance,  picking  the 
way  over  bogs  as  well  as  he  could ;  in  this  way  managing  to  keep 
above  water.  Every  httle  while,  as  they  advanced,  a  crawfish 
would  flap  out  of  the  grass  and  disappear  in  its  watery  hole. 
These  creatures  attracted  the  attention  and  excited  the  curiosity 
of  Spondulix,  who  had  never  before  seen  one  of  them.  Every 
time  a  flap  was  heard,  he  turned  to  look  in  wonder  at  the  uncouth 
tenant  of  the  bogs.  Presently  the  speculator  came  to  a  halt,  and 
turning  to  Spondulix,  informed  him  that  they  had  reached  the 
boundary  of  his  land.  Spondulix,  without  a  word,  walked  on, 
stepping  from  bog  to  bog,  his  mind  seemingly  engaged  by  the 
novel  proceedings  of  those  singular  crawfish.  He  had  proceeded 
some  distance  from  the  speculator,  when  a  big  crawfish  flapped 
into  its  hole  at  his  feet.  Spondulix  pulled  out  his  title-deed  to 
that  marvelous  tract  of  land,  and  with  his  cane  rammed  it  far 
down  into  the  hole  after  the  crawfish.  “D — n  you!”  said  he, 
“  you’ve  got  the  possession — yoii  shall  have  the  title !”  Spondulix 
went  directly  home,  and  has  never  since  been  known  to  have 
dealings  with  western  land  speculators. 

But  while  these  practices  of  the  land  speculators  are  calculated 
more  especially  for  the  deception  of  strangers  abroad,  there  are 
others  far  more  dangerous  than  these  to  the  emigrant  and  the 
inexperienced  stranger,  who  come  to  make  the  West  their  home. 
By  the  laws  of  Illinois,  the  measure  of  damages  which  the  grantee 
may  recover  from  the  grantor,  in  case  of  the  failure  of  title  to  lands, 
is  only  the  consideration  money, 'with  six  per  cent,  interest.  Thus, 
if  B.  takes  a  warrantee  deed  to  land  from  A.,  and  it  subsequently 
turns  out  that  A.  did  not  own  the  land,  or  that  his  title  was  de¬ 
fective,  B.  can  recover  for  the  amount  he  paid,  with  interest,  but 
nothing  for  his  improvements  or  for  the  increase  of  the  land  in 
value.  To  illustrate  the  advantages  which  this  law  gives  to  the 
unscrupulous  speculator,  we  mention  an  instance  which  took  place 
in  this  city  not  many  years  ago. 

A  speculator,  pursuing  the  usual  practice  of  his  craft,  attended 


TOO  LATE  AND  TOO  FAST. 

“  TTold  on,”  cried  the  policeman. 


40 


the  tax  sales,  and  bid  ofif  a  large  number  of  lots  in  the  west  division 
for  the  several  trifling  sums  due  on  them  for  taxes.  These  lots, 
which  were  of  large  size,  he  then  proceeded  to  subdivide  into  the 
common  slips,  twenty-flve  feet  in  width.  These  he  offered  for  sale 
at  such  prices  as  readily  brought  him  purchasers  from  among  the 
poorer  class  of  laborers  and  immigrants.  Without  hesitation,  he 
gave  each  of  them  a  warrantee  deed,  or,  in  some  cases,  a  bond  for 
a  deed.  Supposing  themselves,  with  such  title  papers,  to  be  the 
unquestionable  owners  of  the  land,  the  industrious,  hard-working 
purchasers  took  possession,  built  houses,  and  gathered  about  them 
the  improvements  and  comforts  of  a  home.  In  the  course  of  a 
few  years,  the  land  having  become  valuable,  the  real  owners  made 
their  appearance,  and  proceeded  to  take  measures  for  the  eject¬ 
ment  of  the  occupants.  The  only  alternative  left  them  was  in 
proceedings  at  law  against  the  speculator  who  had  robbed  them ; 
yet  by  this  means  they  could  only  recover  the  amount  originally 
paid,  with  six  per  cent,  interest.  Even  this  not  one  of  them  was 
ever  able  to  collect  from  the  insolvent  swindler. 

Another  branch  of  the  same  system  of  speculation  is  continually 
practiced  in  this  city,  sometimes  with  the  intention  to  defraud ; 
oftener,  perhaps,  with  the  design,  but  not  always  the  ability,  to  be 
honest.  Snooks  buys  a  vacant  block  for,  say  $20,000,  on  ten 
years’  time.  He  pays  $1,000  down,  and  gives  a  mortgage  or 
trust  deed  (the  most  blood-thirsty  of  all  obligations  ever  invented 
by  lawyers  or  men),  to  secure  the  remaining  payments.  To  meet 
these  payments,  as  well  as  to  realize  his  anticipated  proflts,  he 
depends  upon  the  profltable  sales  which  he  expects  to  make.  The 
block  is  subdivided  into  lots,  which  are  put  upon  the  market. 
Flaming  advertisements  appear  in  the  newspapers,  extolling  the 
beauty,  the  advantages,  the  prospects,  the  rapid  growth,  etc.,  etc., 
of  that  particular  portion  of  the  city,  and  very  likely  some  paper, 
with  editors  who  may  be  cheaply  bought  or  bribed,  comes  out 
with  a  glowing  editorial  upon  the  same  subject.  Frequently  some 
grand  institution  is  to  be  established  there ;  some  church,  or  col¬ 
lege,  or  monastery,  or  distillery,  or  manufactory,  to  supply  all  the 
natural  and  spiritual,  as  well  as  artificial,  wants  of  mankind, 
which,  the  newspaper  quack  assures  his  innocent  readers,  will 
make  every  poor  devil  independently  rich  before  he  has  lived  there 


41 


two  years !  Then,  by  way  of  clinching  what  has  before  been  said, 
the  papers  in  a  day  or  two  contain  what  purports  to  be  reports 
of  sales,  as,  “  Mr.  Peter  Funk  sold  six  lots  in  Snooks’  Addition,  to 
Mr.  Greenman,  of  Vermont,  for  $10,000.  Mr.  Greenman  contem¬ 
plates  the  erection  of  an  establishment  for  making  artificial  ice- 
water,  which  will  employ  a  large  number  of  hands.”  This,  gen¬ 
erally,  has  the  desired  efiect.  All  the  poor  laborers  in  the  city 
who  are  anxious  to  get  employment  in  Mr.  Greenman’s  ice-water 
factory,  reason  that  the  surest  way  is  to  live  in  its  vicinity.  Ac¬ 
cordingly,  they  proceed  to  buy  lots,  those  who  have  the  means, 
and  build  cottages.  Snooks  “  realizes”  largely  on  his  purchase, 
makes  the  second  payment,  sells  all  he  can  during  the  next  year, 
warranting  the  title  to  all,  fails,  blows  up,  Schuylerizes,  runs  away, 
and  leaves  the  poor  dupes  of  his  rascality  to  tohisile  for  their  rights. 
The  land,  of  course,  goes  back  to  the  original  owner,  whose  ten¬ 
der  mercies  seldom  greatly  exceed  those  of  the  speculator  himself. 

Now,  to  the  limited  understanding  of  ordinary  people,  such 
practices  as  these  may  appear  very  much  like  downright  swin¬ 
dling — a  crime  which  usually  sends  its  poor  perpetrators  to  the 
penitentiary.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind,  however,  that  society 
regards  in  widely  different  lights  the  bungling  thief,  who  merely 
robs  his  neighbor’s  hen-roost,  and  the  smooth-tongued,  gentlemanly 
rogue,  who  takes  the  last  cent  his  victim  has  in  the  world,  under 
the  guise  of  speculation.  The  one  is  unanimously  voted  a  proper 
subject  for  the  grand  jury,  while  the  other  receives  credit  for  a 
shrewd  business  man  1  Heaven  deliver  the  innocent  from  such 
shrewdness ! 

In  buying  real  estate,  no  matter  how  small  the  quantity  or  how 
little  the  price,  the  only  proper  and  safe  course  is  to  examine  the 
records  and  satisfy  yourself  as  to  the  title,  beforehand.  Trust  to 
no  one’s  statement  or  assertion.  Make  the  person  from  whom 
you  buy  bear  the  expense  of  furnishing  you  with  an  abstract  of 
title  made  by  some  reliable  conveyancer.  If  he  refuses  to  do  this, 
have  nothing  more  to  do  with  him ;  you  may  be  sure  there  is  a 
“negro  in  the  fence”  somewhere. 

There  are  many  other  tricks  practiced  by  the  land  speculators 
to  dupe  strangers,  both  abroad  and  at  home,  to  which  our  limits 
will  not  permit  an  extended  reference.  A  lucrative  business  of 
4* 


42 


this  kind  is  carried  on  in  swamp  lands,  to  which  we  have  already 
incidentally  alluded.  Many  of  these  lands  are  utterly  worthless 
for  any  practical  purpose  whatever.  They  are  bought  by  the 
speculators  for  a  mere  nominal  price,  whereupon  (as  the  proceed¬ 
ings  in  our  courts  have,  on  sundry  occasions,  proved)  agents  are 
sent  to  New  York,  or  some  other  large  commercial  city  at  the 
East,  to  “blow”  them  (such  is  the  appropriate  technical  term  used 
to  designate  their  proceedings).  When  they  have  been  sufficiently 
“blown,”  the  owner  goes  on,  and  with  some  merchant  whose 
“generous  confidence”  exceeds  his  discretion,  pledges  them  as 
collateral  security  for  a  stock  of  goods.  The  goods  are  brought 
West  and  converted  into  cash,  if  possible,  before  the  merchant  can 
find  out  the  real  value  of  the  land'.  In  one  instance  of  this  kind, 
the  merchant  wrote  to  the  treasurer  of  the  county  in  which  the 
land  was  situated,  requesting  him  to  visit  and  examine  the  tract, 
and  report  as  to  its  situation,  value,  etc.  The  treasurer  replied 
that  the  merchant  must  first  send  him  pay  for  the  service  required, 
as  he  would  not  accept  the  land  for  his  trouble.  In  another  in¬ 
stance,  the  merchant — a  New  York  man — wrote  to  the  county 
surveyor,  requesting  him  to  make  a  survey  of  the  tract  mentioned, 
and  report  as  to  its  location  and  value.  The  surveyor  proceeded 
to  the  land,  but  did  not  survey  it.  In  his  report  to  the  merchant, 
he  gave  as  his  reason  for  not  doing  so,  that  he  had  no  boat,  and 
must  wait  until  the  water  froze  over  I 

These  tricks  are  often  practiced  upon  drovers,  as  well  as  immi¬ 
grants,  and  all  others  who  may  have  property  they  are  willing  to 
dispose  of  for  land.  The  swamp-land  speculators  are  ready  to 
trade  for  any  thing  which  may  be  turned  into  cash.  Hence,  many 
unthinking  immigrants,  who  have  a  team  or  other  property  which 
they  desire  to  convert  into  land,  are  taken  in  by  these  sharpers. 
A  case  of  this  kind  occurred  in  the  month  of  September  last,  in 
which  a  farmer  from  Massachusetts  was  induced  to  part  with 
property  of  the  value  of  $1,000  for  a  farm,  in  one  of  the  interior 
counties  of  this  state,  which  was  two-thirds  under  water,  and  to 
which,  besides,  the  speculators  had  nothing  but  a  tax  title.  In 
this  case,  the  swindlers  were  arrested  and  made  to  settle  with  their 
victim. 

While,  however,  the  emigrant  from  foreign  shores,  and  the  in- 


s 


43 


experienced  Or  confiding' stranger  from  our  own,  who  come  hither  , 
to  find  a  home,  are  liable  to  fall  into  the  traps  set  by  unscrupulous 
speculators,  it  should  be  remembered  that  all  land  dealers  are  not 
of  this  class,  Tliere  are  as  upright  and  honorable  men  engaged 
in  this  business  as  in  any  other.  It  is  only  to  those  who  are  not 
upright  or  honorable  that  these  remarks  are  intended  to  apply. 
Rogues  and  honest  men  are  ever  found  together,  in  spite  of  the 
old  adage,  that  a  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps.  The  • 
West  does  not  differ  in  this  respect  from  any  other  region  of  coun¬ 
try,  Because  there  are  sharks  in  the  sea,  man-  does  not  refuse  to 
navigate  its  waters,  or  search  for  profit  among  its  scaly  inhabitants ; 
neither  should  he  avoid  the  West,  because  here  are  found  sharks 
on  the  land.  The  inducements  far  outweigh  the  dangers,  while, 
with  prudence,  the  latter  may  be  avoided.  It  has  been  truly  said, 
by  one  whose  opinion  is  worthy  of  all  confidence,  that  “  there  is 
probably  no  part  of  the  American  continent  where  capital,  judi¬ 
ciously  invested  in  real  estate,  and  combined  with  well-directed 
effort  and  industry,  can  be  made  so  productive  as  in  the  ‘North¬ 
west.’  Could  many  of  our  Eastern  friends  see  the  countless  acres 
of  virgin  soil  that  lie  here  neglected,  and  await  but  the  hand  of 
the  husbandman  to  unlock  their  rich  treasures,  and  unfold  the 
hidden  wealth  that  has  so  long  remained  uncared  for,  they  would 
at  once  abandon  the  bleak  hills  and  unyielding  rocks  of  New 
England,  and  come  where  their  labor  would  be  sure  to  meet  a 
handsome  reward.” 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  Chicago  Sand-bar  Case. 

Since  the  preceding  chapter  was  written,  the  long-talked  of 
case  of  Bates  vs.  the  Illinois  Central  Railroad  Company  has  been 
tried  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court,  holding  its  session  in  this 
city,  with  Judges  McLean  and  Drummond  on  the  bench.  The 
importance  of  the  case,  the  magnitude  of  the  interests  involved, 
the  deep  anxiety  which  very  many  people,  in  the  East  as  well  as 
the  West,  have  felt  upon  the  subject,  as  well  as  the  character  of 
the  parties  and  the  circumstances  surrounding  the  case — showing 
one  of  the  most  stupendous  schemes  of  speculation  ever  conceived 
by  the  fertile  imagination  of  the  most  greedy  land-shark — have 
induced  us,  before  proceeding  with  other  subjects,  to  give  a  suc¬ 
cinct  history  of  this  already  celebrated  lawsuit. 

It  is  an  action  of  ejectment,  brought  by  George  C.  Bates,  of  De¬ 
troit,  against  the  Ulinois  Central  Railroad  Company,  to  recover 
possession  of  the  grounds  occupied  by  the  company  for  depot  pur¬ 
poses,  at  the  entrance  of  the  Chicago  harbor,  and  upon  which  the 
company  have  expended  a  million  and  a  half  of  dollars.  The  total 
value  of  the  property  is  almost  beyond  calculation ;  it  is  safe  to 
say  it  could  not  be  bought  for  two  millions.  Bates  and  his  con¬ 
freres  claim,  under  conveyances  from  the  original  patentee,  through 
various  parties  and  in  various  ways,  until  the  title  rests  with 
them. 

To  fully  understand  the  subject,  it  is  necessary  to  go  back  to 
the  original  survey  of  the  lands  in  Chicago,  made  by  the  govern¬ 
ment  in  1818.  At  that  time  there  existed  a  sand-bar,  or  spit  of 
land,  from  one  to  three  feet  in  height  above  the  water,  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Chicago  River,  situated  as  shown  in  the  engraved 
diagram,  and  connected  with  the  main-land  on  the  north  side  of 
the  river.  This  sand-bar,  formed  in  the  progress  of  years  by  the 


45 


contending  currents  of  the  lake  and  river,  which  deposited  their 
sands,  in  obedience  to  a  well-known  law,  in  a  direct  line  from  the 
angle  of  incidence,  had  removed  the  outlet  of  the  river  from  its 
original  position  to  a  point  half  a  mile  further  south.  The  sand¬ 
bar,  however,  was  not  included  in  the  original  survey,  nor  laid 

down  in  the  plats  made  therefrom, 
which  show  the  mouth  of  the  river 
as  it  originally  was.  The  surveyors 
ran  the  meanders  of  Lake  Michi¬ 
gan,  commencing  at  the  comer,  to 
fractional  section  10  and  15  (*), 
along  ’the  east  side  of  fractional 
section  10,  N.  2*=*  "W.  14c.  501.; 
N.  4®  W.  8c.  291. ;  N.  5^®  W.  11c. 
891.,  “  to  the  mouth  of  the  Chicago 
River;”  thence  “across  the  mouth 
of  the  Chicago  River,”  N.  29°  E. 
4c.  471. ;  K  10°  E.  14c.  51. ; 

4°  W.  19c;  N.  14°  W.  10c.  431., 
to  the  corner  of  fractional  sections 
3  and  10  (:{;).  The  meanders  of 
the  river  were  commenced  “on 
the  south  side  of  said  river  at  its 
mouth,”  and  terminated  at  “the 
mouth  of  said  river,  on  the  north 
side.”  No  other  connection  was 
given  in  the  field  notes  of  the  surveyors,  between  the  river  and 
the  lake. 

The  claim  of  Bates  is  to  land  in  the  north  part  of  fractional 
section  10  (of  which  part,  it  is  claimed,  the  sand-bar  was  a  por¬ 
tion),  which  was  patented  by  the  government  to  Robert  A.  Kinzie. 
The  patent  called  for  102.51  acres,  the  quantity  of  land  included  in 
the  government  suiwey. 

In  1804,  Fort  Dearborn  was  first  built.  In  the  same  year  John 
Kinzie,  an  Indian  trader,  purchased  the  establishment  of  a  French¬ 
man,  named  Le  Mai.  and  took  up  his  abode  in  a  house  erected  on 
the  river  bank,  directly  opposite  the  fort.  Thus  the  Kinzie  family 
became  the  occupants  of  the  land  long  prior  to  the  time  when  they 


46 


acquired  any  rights  of  ownership.  The  possession  was  uninter¬ 
rupted  from  1804  down  to  August,  1812,  when  the  fort  was 
evacuated  by  order  of  Gien,  Hull,  and  burnt  by  the  Indians,  who 
likewise  massacred  the  garrison,  with  the  exception  of  about 
twenty.  By  this  event  the  Kinzie  family  were  forced  from  their 
possessions,  and  barely  escaped  with  their  lives.  The  interruption 
continued  until  1816,  when  the  fort  was  rebuilt,  and  Kinzie  re¬ 
turned  to  his  trading  post. 

In  1830,  the  first  pre-emption  law  was  passed  by  Congress,  and, 
under  its  provisions,  Robert  Kinzie  (his  father  having  died  in  1828) 
claimed  the  north  part  of  fractional  section  10.  In  1831,  the  land 
was  entered  by  him  at  the  land-office  at  Palestine.  As  it  turned 
out,  the  entry  at  Palestine  was  invalid,  by  reason  of  the  northern 
part  of  the  state  having  been  erected  some  three  months  prior  to 
the  entry  into  a  new  land  district.  But,  in  1836,  Congress  passed 
an  act  for  the  relief  of  persons  so  situated,  and  in  1837  Mr.  Kinzie 
received  his  patent.  The  court  decided  upon  the  question  of  law 
raised  by  the  defense,  that  the  act  of  Congress  was  a  confirmation 
of  the  sale  at  Palestine,  and  that  Kinzie’s  title  accrued  from  the 
date  of  the  entry,  and  not  from  the  date  of  the  patent,  or  of  the 
act  authorizing  it  to  issue. 

Prior  to  about  this  time  the  sand-bar  appears  to  have  been  re¬ 
garded  by  all  parties  as  of  no  value.  No  person  had  formally 
laid  claim  to  it.  It  was  unoccupied  and  used  for  no  purpose 
whatever,  except  occasionally  as  a  highway,  the  bar  furnishing  an 
easy  ford  across  the  river  outlet,  where  the  water  was  sometimes 
only  a  few  inches  in  depth.  But  in  those  years,  as  every  one 
remembers,  speculation  became  a  raging  epidemic.  Every  spot 
of  ground,  previously  disregarded  as  valueless,  was  seized  upon  as 
containing  a  fortune  in  futuro,  and  yet  the  patentee  of  the  north 
fraction  seems  not  to  have  so  regarded  the  sand-bar.  This,  how¬ 
ever,  may  have  been,  and  probably  was,  owing  to  the  fact  that 
it  was  then  entirely  cut  off  from  the  main-land  by  the  harbor,  for 
which  the  survey  wms  made,  by  authority  of  Congress,  in  1829 
(while  the  government  was  still  the  sole  claimant  and  absolute 
owner  of  the  north  fraction),  across  the  sand-bar,  where  the  mouth 
of  the  river  had  originally  been,  and  which  was  built  and  opened 
in  1833-4.  Immediately  on  the  opening  of  the  harbor,  the  sand- 


47 


bar  began  to  decrease  in  size,  by  the  action  of  the  waves,  and 
continued  so  to  do  until,  in  1837  or  ’38,  it  entirely  disappeared. 

In  1835,  before  a  very  large  portion  of  the  sand-bar  was  washed 
away,  one  George  Walker,  a  surveyor,  conceived  the  idea  that  it 
could  not  have  been  entered  by  any  one,  not  having  been  in¬ 
cluded  in  the  government  survey.  Accordingly  he  proceeded  to 
erect  a  shanty  and  “  squat”  upon  it,  petitioning  the  government 
to  have  it  surveyed.  The  government  caused  it  to  be  surveyed  in 
1836,  and  added  to  the  south  fraction.  Walker  located  what  is 
called  a  “  float”  upon  it. 

Meanwhile,  another  speculator — a  lawyer  named  Henry  Moore 
— arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  something  might  be  made  out  of 
this  sand-bar,  by  claiming  it  to  be  a  part  of  the  north  fraction. 
He  went  to  Kinzie  and  presented  the  matter  to  him.  The  result 
was  that  Kinzie  quit-claimed  and  released  to  Moore  all  of  whatever 
right  and  title  he  might  have  to  the  sand-bar.  But  Moore  never 
asserted  any  claim  under  the  conveyance.  The  lake  asserted  a 
more  potent  claim  than  either  Moore  or  Walker  possessed ;  an 
action  of  ejectment  was  brought  by  the  winds  and  waves,  Walker’s 
house  was  thrown  down,  and  the  waters  swallowed  up  all  that 
remained  of  the  old  Chicago  sand-bar.  For  fifteen  years  after¬ 
ward  Lake  Michigan  held  undisputed  and  unquestioned  possession. 
Its  waters  covered  the  spot,  and  the  ships  of  commerce  rode  in 
safety  where  the  garrison  of  Fort  Dearborn  had  formerly  chased 
foxes  for  their  pastime. 

In  1852  the  government  conveyed  to  the  Illinois  Central  Rail¬ 
road  Company  a  portion  of  the  Fort  Dearborn  reservation,  which 
in  the  deed  included,  by  metes  and  bounds,  a  portion  of  the  lake 
where  the  old  sand-bar  had  been.  Another  portion  of  the  lake 
front,  embracing  the  remainder  of  the  sand-bar  area,  was  conveyed 
to  the  same  company  by  the  state.  The  company  commenced 
the  erection  of  piers  and  the  filling  up  of  the  lake  for  their  depot 
grounds,  but  were  soon  met  by  an  obstacle.  The  owners  of  ad¬ 
jacent  property  on  the  land  interposed  the  claim  of  riparian 
rights.  Litigation  ensued,  and  the  company  was  beaten.  The 
courts  granted  injunctions,  which  were  sustained  by  the  Supreme 
Court,  restraining  them  from  the  obstruction  of  the  riparian  owners’ 
free  access  to  the  lake — these  owners,  be  it  remembered,  before 


48 


the  sand-bar  disappeared,  only  having  access  to  what  it  is  now 
claimed  was  the  river.  The  company  were  compelled  to  purchase 
from  the  riparian  owners  their  rights  before  they  could  proceed 
with  their  work.  This  was  done,  and  the  company  then  pro¬ 
ceeded,  without  any  further  attempt  at  hindrance,  to  the  erection 
of  the  immense  and  durable  structures  which  now  are  seen  before 
this  city,  and  which  have  added  more  to  its  wealth  and  prosperity 
than  any  other  single  cause  within  the  period  of  its  history. 

In  this  state  of  things  comes  along  George  C.  Bates  (just  re¬ 
turned  from  California,  where  he  had  engaged  in  a  similar  specu¬ 
lation  with  success).  He  beholds  these  structures  of  the  Illinois 
Central,  and  rightly  conjectures  that  an  immense  sum  of  money 
has  been  expended  there.  What  if,  with  those  old  shadowy  sand¬ 
bar  titles,  he  can  trump  up  a  claim  out  of  which  a  handsome 
“pile”  can  be  realized.  Being  a  brother-in-law  of  Kinzie  will 
help  him  to  get  track  of  them,  and  for  the  rest,  why,  he  will 
“trust  to  luck”  and  the  courts.  He  first  proceeds  to  associate 
himself  with  certain  other  shrewd  speculators,  between  whom  and 
himself  written  agreements  are  made  (copies  of  which  were  offered 
in  evidence  on  the  trial,  by  the  defense),  each  having  his  appro¬ 
priate  duties  to  perform,  and  being  entitled,  in  the  event  of  a 
recovery,  to  a  stipulated  share  of  the  plunder.  Bates  is  to  have 
one-half;  Wills,  one-quarter;  Green  and  the  other  partner,  one- 
eighth  each.  Bates  is  to  hunt  up  and  purchase  every  thing  in  the 
shape  of  a  title ;  Wills  is  to  attend  to  the  interests  of  the  specula¬ 
tion  at  Chicago;  Green  and  the  other  to  the  same  at  Wasliington, 
among  the  government  records. 

Bates  first  follows  up  Henry  Moore,  to  get  possession  of  the 
quit-claim  from  Kinzie.  He  finds  that  he  had  taken  the  benefit  of 
the  bankrupt  act  in  Massachusetts,  where  all  the  estate  he  owned 
in  the  world  had  been  bid  off  for  the  sum  of  eight  dollars  by  his 
brother,  Robert  Moore.  Henry  Moore  is  dead.  Bates  follows  up 
the  brother,  and  finds,  in  the  northern  part  of  Vermont,  that  he 
also  is  dead.  But  he  has  left  a  will,  bequeathing  all  his  property 
to  his  widow.  Among  the  rest  is  the  estate  of  his  brother  Henry 
in  bankruptcy ;  but  this  is  of  so  little  value  that  he  neglected  to 
take  a  deed  from  the  bankruptcy  court.  The  speculator  takes  the 
next  step  by  proxy.  He  engages  the  services  of  two  New  York 


49 


lawyers,  for  a  couple  of  hundred  dollars  down  and  one-tenth  in¬ 
terest  in  his  share  of  the  expected  plunder,  who  obtain  from  the 
widow  an  assignment  of  the  estate  in  bankruptcy,  and  then  from 
the  bankruptcy  commissioners  a  deed,  which  is  by  them  conveyed 
to  Bates.  This  is  one  basis  of  claim  to  the  Illinois  Central  depot 
grounds. 

In  1833  Kinzie  subdivided  his  north  fraction  into  town  lots. 
At  the  southeast  comer  (see  the  diagram)  a  number  of  lots  were 
laid  out  with  open  fronts,  the  object  being  to  make  them  wharfage 
lots,  bounded  on  the  south  by  the  harbor,  which  the  government 
was  preparing  to  open  through  the  sand-bar.  Several  of  these 
lots  were  sold,  and  by  the  descriptions  in  the  deeds  they  would 
extend  entirely  across  the  harbor,  and  embrace  some  portion  of 
ground  south  of  it.  From  the  owners  of  lots  so  described  the 
speculators  purchased  for  mere  nominal  sums  and  a  share  of  the 
spoils  when  obtained,  all  that  portion  which  would  lie  south  of 
the  harbor,  on  the  depot  grounds.  This  is  another  basis  of  claim. 

As  we  have  said,  the  trial  of  this  remarkable  case  has  but  just 
closed.  The  facts  elicited  show  it  to  be  one  of  the  most  stupen¬ 
dous  schemes  of  speculation  which  was  ever  undertaken  with  like 
dubious  prospects  of  success.  And  yet  it  is  but  of  the  same  char¬ 
acter  with  hundreds  of  others,  on  a  smaller  scale,  which  have  at¬ 
tracted  the  cupidity  of  speculators  in  Chicago.  Imperfect  titles  to 
property  furnish  one  of  the  most  common  and  fruitful  fields  for 
the  operations  of  this  class  of  gamblers.  No  man  in  purchasing 
real  estate  can  be  too  careful  in  the  investigation  of  its  title. 

The  sand-bar  case  was  given  to  the  jury  on  Tuesday,  October 
5  th.  The  main  questions  of  law  upon  which  the  case  depended 
were  the  following: 

1.  Whether  the  patent  to  Kinzie,  calling  for  land  bounded  on 
the  south  by  the  Chicago  River,  and  east  by  the  lake,  in  accord¬ 
ance  with  the  government  survey,  did  or  did  not  embrace  the 
sand-bar,  which  was  not  included  in  said  survey.  The  court  de¬ 
cided  that  as  a  riparian  owner  the  rights  of  the  patentee  would 
extend  to  the  water. 

2.  Whether  the  title  of  Kinzie  to  the  said  north  part  of  frac¬ 
tional  section  10  accrued  at  the  time  of  his  making  the  entry,  in 
1831,  or  at  the  time  of  the  passage  of  the  act  of  Congress,  in  1836, 

5 


y 


50 


anthorizing  the  patent  to  issne.  The  court  decided  that  the  title 
accrued  from  the  time  the  money  was  paid  at  the  land-office. 

3.  Whether  the  owner,  upon  the  opening  of  the  harbor  and 
disappearance  of  the  sand-bar,  did  or  did  not  abandon  whatever 
rights  he  may  have  had  in  the  sand-bar,  and  dedicate  it  to  the 
public  use.  Upon  this  question  it  was  held,  with  regard  to  land 
submerged,  of  which  the  original  boundaries  could  be  defined, 
that  the  right  of  navigation  and  of  reclamation  would  be  coexist¬ 
ent,  and  the  latter  must  yield  to  the  former. 

4.  Whether  or  not,  in  the  gradual  washing  away  of  the  sand¬ 
bar,  all  individual  rights  were  lost,  and  the  property  vested  abso¬ 
lutely  in  the  sovereign.  This  question  was  given  to  the  jury  to 
decide  upon  the  evidence  as  to  whether  the  sand-bar  disappeared 
gradually  and  imperceptibly  or  suddenly  and  perceptibly. 

The  jury,  after  two  hours’  consultation,  rendered  a  verdict  for 
the  defendants.  A  new  trial  was  moved  for  by  thv  plaintiff 


\ 


61 


CHAPTER  y.  ^ 

yESTERN  Confidence  Men. 

Analogous  to  the  land-shark  is  the  “  Confidence  Man,”  of  a 
class  peculiar  to  the  West,  found  operating  more  or  less  exten¬ 
sively  in  every  city,  and  along  every  important  line  of  public 
travel.  Whoever  has  read  Hermann  Melville’s  “Confidence 
Man  ”  will  have  formed  a  very  clear  and  accurate  idea  of  this  spe¬ 
cies  of  the  genus  homo,  as  exhibited  in  many  of  his  chamelion- 
like  phases.  To-day,  a  land  speculator ;  to-morrow,  the  agent  of 
some  railroad  contractor,  furnishing -men,  for  a  dollar  a  head,  em¬ 
ployment  on  some  distant  railroad,  where,  on  their  arrival,  they 
find  no  such  contractor  exists  ;  on  the  next  day,  enlightening  the 
verdant  public  of  the  profits  to  be  derived  from  investment  in  the 
Grand  Copper-Bottom  Joint-Stock  Mining  Company;  on  the  next, 
selling  shares  in  a  real  estate  lottery,  or  “gift  enterprise,”  in 
which  the  lowest  prize  is  a  farm  worth  half  a  million ;  and  so  on, 
to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

The  “  Joint-Stock  Distribution  Company  ”  is  a  favorite  scheme 
with  this  class  of  swindlers — we  choose  to  call  things  by  their 
right  names.  The  usual  models  operandi  we  will  describe.  Im¬ 
primis,  then,  Mr.  Sharper  requires  a  cash  capital  of  at  least  ten 
dollars,  or  its  equivalent  in  credit  with  some  job  printer.  He  gets 
up  a  fiaming  circular,  setting  forth  that  “  a  number  of  wealthy 
and  benevolent  gentlemen,  being  about  to  leave  the  country,  and 
having  an  immense  amount  of  property  which  they  wish  to  dis¬ 
pose  of,  have  adopted  the  plan  of  forming  a  joint-stock  company, 
and  distributing  it  among  the  shareholders.”  Then  follows  a 
“list  of  the  prizes,”  embracing  farms  of  fabulous  value,  town  lots, 
carriages,  horses,  watches,  jewelry,  dry -goods,  and  fancy  articles 
enough  to  stock  a  Yankee  peddlar,  or  enrich  a  whole  community 
of  Hebrew  tradesmen.  “  Only  a  limited  number  of  shares  will 


QUIT  CLAIM. 


You’ve  got  the  possession,  you  shall  have  the  title.” 


53 


be  sold,”  which  of  course  means  as  many  as  Mr.  Sharper  can  by 
any  possibility  dispose  of,  “and  the  distribution  will  take  place 
as  soon  as  they  are  ah  taken.”  Mr.  Sharper  opens  an  office  in  a 
prominent  street ;  advertises,  if  a  shrewd  operator,  in  the  news¬ 
papers,  and  distributes  his  circulars  through  the  country.  Agents 
are  solicited  to  dispose  of  shares,  to  whom  most  liberal  terms  are 
offered.  The  names  of  respectable  gentlemen,  as  referees,  are 
often,  by  some  hook  or  crook  obtained,  and  every  imaginable 
appliance  is  used  to  inspire  confidence.  The  opinion  of  the  pov¬ 
erty-stricken  press  is  suborned  by  an  advertisement  and  a  few 
shares,  or,  if  these  will  not  do,  by  a  bribe  of  a  few  dollars  paid  to 
some  miserable  scribbler  of  “  local  items,”  whose  idea  of  an  editor’s 
duty  to  the  public  is  regulated  by  the  price  which  those  who  de¬ 
sire  to  profit  by  the  public  may  consider  him  worth.  The  shares 
begin  to  go  out,  and  the  money  begins  to  come  in.  When  this 
exchange  has  been  going  on  for  some  length  of  time,  and  the 
shareholders  begin  to  think  it  is  time  to  hear  something  about 
the  distribution,  they  should  not  be  surprised,  some  pleasant 
morning,  on  passing  the  office  of  the  “Grand  Joint-Stock  Distri¬ 
bution  Company,”  to  find  the  doors  closed,  and  a  notice  like  unto 

this  posted  thereon : 

« 

“  Gone  into  the  country  for  a  few  days. 

Keen  Sharper,  Agent  G.  J.  S.  D.  Co.” 

If,  when  the  “  few  days  ”  have  expired,  Mr.  Keen  Sharper  does 
not  reappear,  the  best  way  for  the  shareholders  is  to  say  nothing 
more  about  the  matter,  unless  they  are  ambitious  to  bo  laughed  at. 

But  Mr.  Sharper’s  game  is  not  always  to  run  away.  It  is  quite 
as  convenient,  and  often  more  advantageous  for  his  purposes,  to 
have  the  “  distribution  ”  take  place.  It  gives  a  color  of  honesty 
to  the  scheme,  sufficient  usually  to  prevent  the  shareholders  from 
tarring  and  feathering  him,  and  enables  him  the  more  success¬ 
fully  to  carry  out  a  similar  scheme,  upon  a  grander  scale,  in  the 
next  city  he  may  visit.  It  also  enables  him  to  pocket  larger 
profits.  The  announcement  of  the  day  for  the  distribution  in¬ 
spires  the  public  with  new  confidence,  and  stimulates  the  sale  of  ‘ 
shai'es  in  proportion.  It  is  usually  accompanied  by  the  intere*^ 


64 


ing  information  that  “only  a  small  number  of  shares  remain 
unsold ;  every  one  who  would  get  a  fifty-thousand-dollar  farm  for 
one  dollar  must  call  soon,  as  the  books  will  be  closed  on  Thursday 
at  noon,”  The  books  are  closed  pursuant  to  the  announcement, 
leaving,  as  Mr.  Sharper  regrets  to  say,  a  few  hundred  share  certi¬ 
ficates  on  his  hands. 

The  distribution  is  superintended  by  a  committee  of  share¬ 
holders,  appointed  for  that  purpose  by  the  shareholders  at  large. 
It  is  needless  to  inform  the  intelligent  reader  that  this  committee 
is  composed  of  as  arrant  knaves  as  Mr.  Sharper  himself — men  who 
are  his  accomplices ;  or  who,  for  a  consideration,  have  consented 
to  look  on  and  wink  at  fraud ;  or  who,  not  being  dupers,  are 
themselves  dupes  without  knowing  it.  There  are  a  hundred  ways 
’‘in  which  the  thing  may  be  done,  and  yet  every  one  of  the  fifty 
or  sixty  thousand  shareholders  stand  a  much  better  chance  of 
being  made  President  of  the  United  States  than  of  drawing  a  single 
prize  in  this  confidence  lottery.  And  yet  some  prizes  are  drawn — 
oh,  yes — it  would  not  do  for  Mr.  Sharper  to  let  all  draw  blanks. 
A  few  insignificant  prizes  are  drawn,  and  when  the  lucky  holder 
of  a  corresponding  certificate  presents  himself  to  receive  his  prize, 
Mr.  Sharper  is  of  course  abundantly  able  to  go  to  some  shop  and 
buy  a  cheap  article  of  the  kind  which  the  certificate  calls  for. 
Not  one  of  the  valuable  pieces  of  property  mentioned  in  the 
schedule  was  ever  in  his  possession  before. 

Upward  of  seventy  thousand  dollars  was  realized  by  some 
half  a  dozen  speculating  individuals,  who  engaged  in  a  scheme  of 
this  kind  in  this  city  about  two  years  ago.  Since  then,  no  one 
has  ventured  to  embark  in  the  business  upon  so  extensive  a  scale ; 
yet  it  is  still  carried  on,  as  the  circulars  frequently  sent  through 
the  mail  abundantly  prove.  It  is  one  of  the  most  successful,  safe 
and  lucrative  systems  of  swindling,  for  which  reasons  it  is  a  fa¬ 
vorite  one  with  confidence  operators  in  the  West.  Wlioever  ex¬ 
pects  to  obtain  a  farm  (or  any  thing  else  of  value)  by  investing  in 
such  a  scheme,  will  find,  when  it  is  too  late  to  withdraw,  that  the 
“  fool  and  his  money  have  parted.” 

Another,  and  often  a  still  more  profitable  confidence  game,  is 
afforded  by  what  is  known  in  the  West  as  the  “generous  confi¬ 
dence  ”  system  of  banking.  In  all  countries,  since  the  invention 
5* 


65 


of  paper  money,  liaa  the  banking  business  afforded  to  the  chevor 
•‘Her  d'indttstrie  a  rich  and  attractive  field.  The  abstruse  and  not 
generally  understood  nature  of  its  transactions  has  enabled  sharp¬ 
ers  to  invent  systems  of  swindling  in  its  name,  which  even  the 
law  has  oftentimes  been  puzzled  how  to  reach  and  punish.  Pub¬ 
lic  ignorance  is  ever  the  surest  safeguard  of  vice,  t  It  was  the 
remark  of  a  distinguished  judicial  functionary  of  this  city,  in  giv¬ 
ing  his  testimony  in  a  case  where  the  cashier  of  a  bank  was 
charged  with  stealing  its  funds,  that  in  his  opinion  double-entry 
book-keeping  was  invented  to  enable  book-keepers  to  steal  with¬ 
out  the  risk  of  being  found  out.  With  how  much  more  truth 
would  the  remark  apply  to  the  banking  business,  as  often  prac¬ 
ticed  in  the  West,  those  who  have  suffered  thereby  can  best 
answer. 

Prior  and  for  some  years  subsequent  to’the  enactment  of  the 
general  banking  law  of  Illinois,  the  banking  business  in  the  state 
was  conducted  almost  entirely  on  the  ''  generous  confidence  ” 
basis.  The  issues  of  banks  ostensibly^^ocated  in  picturesque  loca¬ 
tions  on  the  Chattahoochee,  Ocmulgee,  Ogeechee,  and  other 
romantic  rivers  of  the  South — whose  sluggish  waters,  reflecting 
forever  the  rank  foliage  of  impenetrable  everglades,  are  navigated 
by  populous  communities  of  alligators — formed  the  great  bulk  of 
the  circulating  medium  of  the  state.  In  reality,  these  issues 
never  saw  the  land  of  their  pretended  birth,  and  it  is  still  in 
many  instances  a  question  of  great  uncertainty  whether  or  not 
the  banks  whose  names  were  printed  on  the  bills  had  any  more 
than  an  imaginary  existence.  The  bills  were  issued,  and  in 
some  cases  signed,  at  brokers’  shops  in  Chicago.  They  went 
out  among  farmers  and  mechanics,  dollar  for  dollar ;  tliey  came 
back  to  the  brokers  who  issued  them,  and  were  taken  in  ex¬ 
change  for  rags  of  a  like  character,  but  would  not  buy  gold, 
silver,  or  Eastern  exchange.  For  their  redemption,  the  holder 
must  travel  to  the  banks  of  the  Chattahoochee,  above  whose 
auriferous  deposits  fat  alligators  bask  in  the  noon-day  sun,  and, 
if  he  did  not  succeed  in  finding  any  body  to  redeem  the  noteS; 
he  could  return  with  the  consolation  that  the  money  was  good 
so  long  as  it  would  pass. 

So  long  as  these  issues  enjoy  the  public  confidence,  are  thej 


56 


not  as  good  as  any  other  ?  Thus  reason  the  wild-cat  bankers, 
and  thus  also  reason  confidence  men  of  a  still  more  positive 
class.  Shrewd  sharpers  take  advantage  of  the  system  to  swindle 
country  people  upon  a  grand  and  scientific  scale.  An  office,  a 
safe,  a  counter,  two  or  three  books,  and  money  enough  to  pay  an 
engraver^s  bill  and  bribe  the  publisher  of  some  bank-note  reporter, 
who  probably  takes  an  interest  as  a  “  silent  partner  ”  in  the  spec¬ 
ulation,  constitute  all  the  capital  requisite  to  establish  a  bank. 
Ten  or  fifteen  thousand  pictures — whatever  the  amount  of  “  cir¬ 
culation”  is  to  be — manufactured  somewhere  in  New  York  for 
some  imaginary  bank  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  or  other  re¬ 
mote  locality,  being  secretly  unpacked  in  his  bedroom,  the  banker 
goes  to  work  at  night  to  sign  them.  This  done,  the  bank  is 
ready  to  open  for  business. 

Usually,  not  less  than  two  persons  are  required  to  carry  out 
this  game,  who  engage  a  third  as  book-keeper.  This  is  usually 
some  innocent  young  man  who  is  too  verdant  to  comprehend  the 
character  of  his  employers,  and  sufficiently  obedient  to  do  pre¬ 
cisely  what  he  is  told  to  do.  In  the  end,  he  is  generally  cheated 
out  of  his  wages.  One  of  the  bankers  remains  in  the  office,  acting 
as  cashier,  teller  and  “  all  hands.”  The  other  goes  into  the  country 
to  buy  produce  and  put  the  “  currency  ”  in  circulation.  Of  course 
he  is  not  scrupulous  about  paying  the  highest  market  price ; 
produce  at  any  price  being  more  valuable  than  slips  of  linen 
tissue-paper  which  have  been  spoiled  by  printing.  The  produce, 
of  course,  is  reconverted  as  rapidly  as  possible  into  a  more  valu¬ 
able  currency,  and  when  the  “bankers”  have  thus  realized  a 
satisfactory  amount,  or  proceeded  to  the  limit  of  safety,  the  bank 
closes  its  doors,  and  the  successful  swindlers  are  not  to  be  found. 

Within  the  last  two  or  three  years,  by  reason  of  the  energy  of 
some  of  our  private  detectives,  and  the  efforts  of  our  legal  banks 
to  exterminate  the  parent  wild-cats,  none  of  this  description  of 
bankers  have  carried  on  their  business  openly  in  our  midst. 
Secretly,  however,  the  worthless  “  generous  confidence  ”  issues  of 
Georgia  swamps  and  Alabama  cane-brakes  are  still  put  in  circu¬ 
lation,  whenever  opportunity  offers.  Immigrants  and  strangers 
are  of  course  the  most  liable  to  be  “  taken  in  ”  by  them.  The 
best  way  to  avoid  them  is  to  reject,  in  general,  all  bills  purporting 


67 


to  be  issued  at  some  remote  and  unknown  locality.  In  the  Dis¬ 
trict  of  Columbia,  the  law  prohibits  the  issue  of  bank  bills  under 
the  denomination  of  five  dollars,  so  that  every  bill  purporting  to 
come  from  there,  of  a  lower  denomination  than  this,  may  be 
known  to  be  a  fraud.  , 

Space  will  not  permit  us  to  refer  at  length  to  all  the  different 
phases  of  the  western  confidence  man,  who,  like  the  fabled  chame- 
lion,  changes  his  color  whenever  it  becomes  desirable  for  his  pur¬ 
poses.  His  modes  of  operating  are  almost  as  various  as  the  char¬ 
acters  of  men.  He  is  alw'ays  an  intelligent  man,  dresses  in 
accordance  with  the  character  he  personates,  and  is  a  sh re w'^d  judge 
of  human  nature.  Like  the  charming  serpent,  he  approaches  his 
victim  knowing  him  to  be  in  his  power.  He  is  the  most  sociable 
and  companionable  of  men,  except  when  it  is  his  game  to  be 
otherwise.  His  prime  object  is  to  gain  the  confidence  of  his  in¬ 
tended  victim,  for  upon  this  depends  his  success.  He  is,  however, 
not  always  successful.  Sometimes  he  falls  in  with  one  who  is  too 
shrewd  for  his  purposes,  when  the  intended  victim  becomes  the 
victimizes  Such  wms  the  case  with  Smith,  a  confidence  operator 
who  was  arrested  in  this  city  not  long  since.  Smith  was  “  sold  ”  in 
a  manner  which  reflected  very  little  credit  upon  his  own  shrewd¬ 
ness,  or  the  reputation  of  his  profession.  The  salesman  was  an 
Indian. 

Smith  was  in  Madison,  the  capital  of  Wisconsin,  a  few  days 
before  his  arrest,  where,  in  company  with  another  member  of 
“the  profession,”  he  had  been  “sighting”  around  for  a  job.  Both 
rogues  were  extremely  “  hard  up.”  In  the  course  of  their  walks 
about  the  city  they  fell  in  with  a  young  Stockb ridge  Indian,  and 
learned  from  him,  after  insinuating  themselves  into  his  favor,  that 
he  was  daily  expecting  a  remittance  of  some  $300  from  his 
mother.*  Generous,  unsuspecting,  and  withal  not  unwilling  to 
doff  his  character  of  “  stoic  of  the  wood  ”  occasionally  to  enjoy  a 
“jolly  time,”  the  Indian  told  his  new-made  acquaintances  that 
when  his  money  arrived  he  would  return  the  compliment  they 
were  so  graciously  paying  him  in  urging  him  to  enjoy  himself  at 
their  expense,  and  they  would  then  have  a  “  good  time  generally.” 


*  The  Stockbridges  are  a  semi-civilized  tribe,  living  on  and  cultivating 
lands  given  them  by  the  government  near  Lake  Winnebago. 


58 


The  proceedings  of  the  parties  attracted  the  attention  of  a 
Madison  detective,  who  took  occasion  when  the  Indian  was  away 
from  his  companions  to  question  him,  and  put  him  on  his  guard. 
He  was  furnished  by  the  detective  with  fifty  or  sixty  dollars 
in  counterfeit  bank-notes  and  instructed  how  to  proceed.  He 
immediately  found  his  social  friends,  told  them  that  his  remittance 
had  come,  and  suggested  that  they>  should  have  a  drink  together. 
It  was  then  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  from  saloon  to  saloon,  during 
the  remainder  of  the  day,  they  followed  him  like  brothers.  The 
manner  in  which  the  young  Native  American  performed  the  role 
of  Toodles  for  their  edification  and  his  own  amusement  would 
have  done  credit  to  Burton  himself.  At  a  late  hour,  the  trio  went 
to  a  second  class  hotel  (the  Indian  having  positively  refused  to 
go  to  several  worse  places),  and  Smith  had  become  so  much 
attached  to  his  tawny  brother  that  he  proposed  sleeping  with  him, 
which  proposition  was  acceded  to. 

Calmly,  as  one  with  an  easy  conscience,  did  the  Indian  sink  to 
sleep ;  quietly  he  lay. 

His  leathery  limbs  and  soul  fatigued  away, 

Blissfully  haven’d  both  from  joy  and  pain. 

Blinded  alike  from  sunshine  and  from  rain. 

Clasped  like  a  jack-knife,  silently  he  lay, 

etc.,  etc.,  and  when  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  sure  enough,  his 
quandum  friend  Smith  and  the  roll  of  bogus  bank-notes  were 
gone,  the  thief,  in  his  haste,  having  given  his  associate  neither 
share  nor  warning,  but  left  him  behind  to  bear  the  brunt  of  the 
indignation  which  he  had  reason  to  suppose  would  be  aroused  in 
the  swart  bosom  of  the  damnified  Stockbridge. 

Smith  came  directly  to  Chicago,  attempted  to  pass  some  of  the 
counterfeit  notes,  and  straightway  found  himself  in  jail.  His  plea 
of  ignorance  as  to  the  character  of  the  money  failed  to  avail  him 
any  thing. 

We  close  this  chapter  by  illustrating  one  other  phase  in  the 
character  of  the  confidence  man,  as  related  in  the  experience  of 

JONES;  OR,  THE  VICTIM  OF  MISPLACED  CONFIDENCE. 

Ptolemy  Tompkins,  Esq.,  sat  in  his  office  one  bright  afternoon, 
ruminating  upon  a  large  quid  of  Corbin’s  best,  and  the  chances  of 


59 


a  fee.  The  sunlight,  brightly  as  it  gleamed  upon  the  roofs  of  the 
tall  buildings  around,  did  not  enliven  his  somber  room,  which 
looked  out  upon  one  of  those  small  odoriferous  courts  in  the  rear 
of  the  “  paying  property  ”  on  Clark-street.  His  fancy  was  fast 
taking  the  amber  hues  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere,  for  the  day 
was  rapidly  waning,  and  as  yet  “  ne’er  a  nickel  ”  had  been  added 
to  the  slender  store  that  enjoyed  ample  room  to  jingle  in  his  purse. 

His  serious  reflections  were  interrupted  by  a  loud  rap  on  the 
ofiflce  door,  and  hope  whispered  a  fee. 

“  Come  in!”  said  Ptolemy  Tompkins,  Esq.,  and  Jones  entered. 

Now,  Jones  was  evidently  from  the  East,  and  bred  among  tall 
timber,  for,  like  Elongatus  Johannes,  he  stood  six  feet  in  his  cow¬ 
hides;  his  face  defied  the  sun  to  add  another  freckle,  and  his  hair 
was  of  the  color  of  brick-dust,  but  this  is  not  surprising,  as  Jones 
habitually  carried  a  “brick  in  his  hat.” 

“  Well,  ’squar,”  said  Jones,  discharging  at  the  same  time  a  huge 
mouthful  of  tobacco  juice  upon  the  floor ;  “  are  you  a  lawyer  ?” 

Ptolemy  Tompkins,  Esq.,  modestly  said,  “Yes,”  at  the  same 
time  ejecting  a  decoction  of  the  bitter  weed  almost  equal  in  vc^ 
ume  to  that  of  Jones. 

“  Wal,  then,”  resumed  Jones,  “  I  want  some  ’dvice.” 

Here  the  legal  Ptolemy  hinted  at  the  necessity  of  “  crossing  his 
palm  ”  with  the  “  needful  ”  to  enable  him  fully  to  understand  the 
intricacies  of  Jones’s  case ;  but  Jones  plainly  informed  the  attor¬ 
ney  that  he  had  “  not  a  red.”  The  attorney  thought  he  lied ;  but 
the  sequel  proved  he  did  not.  At  this  announcement,  the  vision 
of  a  fee  faded  from  his  imagination,  and  his  fingers  worked  nerv¬ 
ously  with  his  purse,  whose  contents  gave  a  faint  rattle  as  if 
they  too  were  disappointed  in  losing  expected  company. 

“  But,  ’squar,”  insinuated  Jones,  with  another  salival  discharge, 
“you  can  give  me  the  ’dvice,  and  I’ll  pay  you  the  very  fust  money 
I  get  after  I  get  to  Kansas— on  honor,  I  wQl.” 

Ptolemy  Tompkins,  Esq.,  was  a  firm  believer  in  the  final  re¬ 
demption  of  unhappy  Eiansas.  We  will  not  say  to  what  political 
party  he  belonged — indeed,  we  believe  he  is  not  quite  certain 
upon  that  point  himself — ^but  the  assurance  of  Jones  caused  him 
again  to  see  his  fee  in  the  dim  distance,  and  he  told  him  to  go  on 
and  state  his  case. 


60 


“Shall  I  begin  at  the  fust  of  it?”  asked  Jones. 

Tompkins  told  him  to  begin  where  he  liked,  and  be  as  brieC 
with  the  ^important  parts,  as  possible. 

“Wal,”  began  Jones,  as,  freeing  his  mouth  of  the  quid  in  pre- 
senti  and  inserting  a  new  supply,  he  seated  himself  where  he 
could  hold  the  attorney  with  his  eye.  “You  see,  ’squar,  I’m  from 
Y armont,  north  part  of  the  state,  and  there  want  a  fellow  in  them 
parts  could  beat  me  at  skeetin’  or  logrollin’.” 

“No  matter  about  that,”  said  Ptolemy. 

“Wal,  you  know,  we  heer’d  a  good  deal  about  Kansas,  and  got 
pretty  considerably  warmed  up.  There  was  lots  on  ’em  talked 
about  goin’  there  ’n’  squattin’,  but  there  was  more  talk  than  doin’ 
on  it,  now  I  teU  you.  Wal,  we’d  got  pretty  much  through  hayin’, 
so,  says  I,  I’ll  go  ’long;  but  I’m  darned  if  they  didn’t  aU  back 
right  out  and  leave  me  to  go  alone.  Wal,  ’squar,  there  ain’t  no  back 
out  in  me.  Uncle  Zeek  said  I  wouldn’t  do  for  that  kentry,  as  I 
drinked,  though  I  never  went  over  a  quart  a  day,  ’cept  trainin’ 
day,  fourth  of  July,  town-meetin’  and  sich  days.  But  I  was  bound 
to  go  to  Kansas,  so  I  bought  me  a  Sharpe’s  rifle  and  took  the 
pledge  right  on  the  spot.” 

“Well,  well,”  said  Ptolemy,  who  feared  the  loss  of  his  supper, 
“pass  over  all  that,  and  come  to  the  matter  upon  which  you  want 
my  advice.” 

“Wal,  I  arrived  in  Chicago,  and  I  will  say  it  for  ’em,  I  never 
found  so  many  friends  among  straingers  any  wheres  else ;  more’u 
twenty  of ’m  at  the  de^o^  offered  to  show  me  where  to  stop,  and 
most  quarreled  which  should  dew  it.  But  I  -ccepted  the  invita¬ 
tion  of  a  feller  who  said  he  was  goin’  to  Kansas,  and  had  been 
waitin’  for  some  good  feller  for  company.  Wal,  I  went  to  his 
boardin’  house,  cause  he  said  there  were  lots  of  pick-pockets 
reound  this  teown,  and  one  didn’t  always  know  when  one  was 
gettin’  into  company  with  ’em.  P’raps,  he  said,  I  mightn’t  have 
confidence  in  Mm;  but  I  told  him  never  mind,  I’d  stick  to  him 
anyhow.  Wal,  you  see,  this  mornin’,  him  and  me  were  talkin’ 
over  Kansas  matters,  and  says  he,  ‘ Mr.  Jones,’  says  he,  ‘shan’t  I 
tell  you  how  to  make  some  money  to-day?’  ‘  Do,’  says  I.  Then, 
says  he,  ‘  I’ll  buy  that  Sharpe’s  rifle  of  you,  and  give  you  just 
6 


61 


money  enongh  to  buy  you  another  in  Kansas,  and  beside,  will 
give  you  this  watch  to  boot.’  ” 

Whereupon  Jones  drew  from  his  pocket  a  composition  watch, 
of  a  kind  that  have  never  been  known  to  vary  a  second  in  the 
time  they  keep. 

“  Wal,  ’squarl”  continued  Jones,  rolling  his  quid,  “while  I  was 
examinin’  the  watch  and  thinkin’,  ray  friend  told  the  bar-tender 
to  make  two  glasses  of  lemonade,  and  put  a  stick  in  Mr.  Jones’s. 
I  had  told  him,  ’squar,  that  I  belonged  to  the  Sons  of  Temperance 
Society.  Wal,  we  drank  our  lemonade,  and  talked  and  bargained, 
and  he  said  talkin’  is  dry  work,  and  told  the  bar-keeper  to  make 
two  more  lemonades  and  put  a  long  stick  in  Mr.  Jones’s.  I  told 
him  he  needn’t  mind  about  a  long  stick,  but  stir  it  up  with  any 
thing.  Wal!  arter  that  things  got  kinder  confused,  and  I  don’t 
recollect  clearly  how  it  was.  Any  way,  about  two  hours  ago,  the 
bar-tender  waked  me  up,  and  said  I  needn’t  be  sleepin’  there 
all  day,  and  on  kinder  cornin’  to  myself,  I  found  my  friend  and 
my  Sharpe’s  rifle  gone ;  but  I  had  this  watch  and  four  new  five- 
dollar  bills  in  my  pocket.  Now,  ’squar,  what  I  want  to  know  is — 
is  that  watch  gold  ?” 

“No,”  said  Ptolemy,  “it  isn’t  worth  its  weight  in  brass.” 

“Jerusalem!”  exclaimed  Jones,  “you  don’t  say  so!” 

“I  do  say  so,”  said  the  attorney,  “and  perhaps  your  money  is 
no  better.  Let’s  see  it.” 

Jones  produced  from  his  pocket  a  piece  of  newspaper,  and  un¬ 
rolling  it  displayed  four  new  five-dollar  bills,  purporting  to  be  of 
a  Georgetown  bank,  no  such  bank  ever  having  had  a  legal  exist¬ 
ence.  Ptolemy  informed  him  that  he  had  been  regularly  taken 
in  by  a  sharper.  Jones  reflected  a  moment,  took  his  property, 
and  said,  as  he  walked  out,  “  ’Squar,  when  that  feller  told  the 
bar-tender  to  put  a  stick  in  my  lemonade,  my  ’pinion  is  he  meant 
brandy,  and  darned  mean  brandy,  tew!” 


AN  INDIAN  TAR-TAR. 

A  'N’ative  American  appears  in  the  role  of  “Toodles.” 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Public  Amusements  in  Chicago. 

Under  this  head  we  propose  to  speak  only  of  those  places  of 
public  amusement  which  are  not  strictly  of  a  legitimate  character ; 
which  are  carried  on  for  purposes  different  from  what  appears  on 
the  surface ;  which  are,  in  other  words,  traps  set  to  catch  people 
for  their  money,  without  conferring  a  single  benefit  in  return. 
The  theaters  and  concerts  we  do  not  include  in  this  catalogue ; 
although  there  are  numerous  establishments  carried  on  under 
these  names,  which  certainly  must  be  included.  The  most  com¬ 
mon  of  such  are  the  “free  concerts,”  or  drinking  saloons,  where 
music  (so  called)  and  other  entertainments  of  a  worse  character 
are  furnished  gratuitously,  to  attract  customers  and  induce  them 
to  part  from  their  money.  These,  being  the  most  numerous  class 
of  the  amusements  under  consideration,  shall  receive  first  our 
attention. 

A  satirical  writer  has  divided  the  male  population  of  Chicago 
into  two  classes — 1st  class,  those  who  sell  lager-bier;  2d  class 
(includes  class  1st),  those  who  drink  lager-bier. 

There  is  reason  to  believe  that  nature  implants  in  the  breast  of 
every  man,  soon  after  his  arrival  in  Chicago,  a  desire  to  know 
what  this  abominable  drink  tastes  like.  Having  once  tasted  it, 
he  cannot  afterward  leave  it  alone.  He  instantly  becomes  fired 
with  the  ambition  to  drink  sixty  glasses  at  a  sitting,  this  being 
the  maximum  quantity  which  a  Dutchman  will  hold.  Ordinarily, 
it  would  take  considerable  time  to  acquire  the  skill,  dexterity  and 
ductility  of  paunch  necessary  to  the  accomplishment  of  this  feat ; 
and  to  overcome  the  difficulty,  various  appliances  are  resorted  to 
as  “  persuaders,”  to  hasten  the  sixty-glasses-at-a-sitting  millennium 
with  inexperienced  drinkers.  One  of  the  most  effective  of  these 
persuaders  is  found  in  practice  to  be  the  grisette.  Wherefore,  in 


64 


the  newspapers  of  this  metropolis  are  frequently  seen  such  adver¬ 
tisements  as  the  following : 

WANTED— TIDY,  GOOD-LOOKING  FEMALE  WAITERS, 
to  wait  in  the  Concert  Hall  of  the  Colosseum,  195  Randolph, 
near  corner  of  Wells- street,  in  the  basement.  Good  wages  will 
be  paid. 

By  the  term  grisette  we  mean  a  young  woman  whose  position 
in  the  social  world  is  precisely  analogous  to  that  in  the  spiritual 
called  purgatory,  which  is  neither  heaven  nor  hell,  but  exactly 
half  way  between  the  two.  The  grisette  is  neither  an  angel,  as 
all  chaste,  good-looking  women  are ;  nor  a  devil,  as  all  unchaste, 
good  or  ill-looking  women  try  to  be.  She  has  fallen  from,  or 
never  occupied,  the  position  of  the  one,  but  has  not  yet  reached 
that  of  the  other.  For  her  future,  it  may  lie  in  either  direction, 
as  the  spirit  of  good  or  of  evil  prevails.  It  is  from  this  class  that 
the  most  potent  attractions  of  the  “free  concert”  and  “polka 
cellar  ”  are  drawn. 

Reader,  if  you  are  a  stranger  in  Chicago,  let  us  assume  the 
role  of  an  escort,  and  introduce  you  to  the  mysteries  of  one  of 
these  “  free-concert  saloons.”  Imagine,  if  you  please,  a  long,  low 
room,  with  a  “  bar  ”  at  one  end,  lager-bier  barrels  in  the  center, 
and  an  eight-by-teu  platform,  fitted  up  as  a  stage,  at  the  other 
end.  All  about  the  room  are  placed  small  round  tables,  with  beer 
spilled  over  them,  probably  to  give  an  appearance  of  neatness. 
The  fioor  is  not  carpeted,  but  covered  by  a  coating  of  pea-nut 
shells  and  saw-dust,  made  into  a  sort  of  paste  with  tobacco-spit, 
to  the  depth  of  an  inch  or  more — an  ingenious  and  economical 
device,  for  which  the  inventer  expects  to  obtain  a  patent.  Al¬ 
though  the  door  (there  are  seldom  any  practicable  windows)  stands 
wide  open,  there  is  no  air,  its  place  being  ingeniously  supplied  by 
tobacco  smoke,  fiavored  with  beer. 

On  the  “stage,”  two  or  three  villainous-looking  fellows,  and  a 
more  villainous-looking  female,  are  making  a  horrid  noise,  and  by 
their  facial  and  bodily  contortions  appear  to  be  in  great  pain.  A 
friend  of  ours  who  once  visited  one  of  these  places  in  company 
with  his  friend  Spriggins,  was  much  puzzled  to  know  what  was 
the  matter,  and  applied  to  his  companion  for  information.  “  Sprig- 


/ 


65 


gins,”  he  said  to  us,  “informed  me  that  they  were  singing.  I 
asked  him  if  that  was  what  he  called  the  language  of  Goethe,  and 
if  this  was  intended  for  a  representation  of  Auerbach’s  cellar. 
Spriggins  said  he  did  not  know,  but  he  would  try  and  find  out 
what  language  it  was  they  were  singing  in.  He  went  close  up 
to  the  stage  and  listened.  I  saw  him  take  out  a  pocket  dictionary 
and  examine  it.  Then  he  listened  again,  and  at  length  came 
back.  Spriggins  said  he  was  acquainted  with  the  German,  Ital¬ 
ian,  French,  Spanish,  Chinese,  Choctaw,  Greek,  and  Pottowatto- 
mie  languages,  but  it  was  none  of  them.  He  thought  it  must  be 
the  Feejee,  which  was  supported  by  the  fact  that  the  singers  bore 
a  striking  resemblance  to  cannibals.  Just  then  a  pretty  grisette 
came  along  with  a  mug  of  lager^  and  Spriggins  arrested  her  prog¬ 
ress  with  his  foot,  nearly  tripping  her  up. 

“Spriggins:  ‘  My  dear,  will  you  be  so  very  kind  as  to  inform 
me  what  language  those  vocalists  are  at  present  warbling  in  ?’  ” 

“  Pretty  grisette,  with  a  turn-up  of  the  nose :  ‘  English,  stupid  1’  ” 
“  Spriggins  reflected  a  moment,  and  quietly  remarked  that  it 
was  very  stupid  English  to  his  ear.” 

From  fifty  to  a  hundred  villainous,  cut-throat-looking  fellows 
are  drinking  beer  and  bad  whisky  at  the  small  round  tables,  or 
sauntering  about  the  room,  smoking  execrable  cigars,  and  pre¬ 
tending  to  listen  to  the  performance.  It  is  all  pretense.  In  point 
of  fact,  their  chief  business  is  to  ogle  the  grisette s,  about  half  a 
dozen  of  whom  are  actively  engaged  in  distributing  lager-bier  and 
gin-cocktails,  interspersed  with  a  sly  wink,  now  and  then,  to 
some  acquaintance  about  the  room. 

As  the  night  wanes,  the  consumption  of  lager  increases,  until 
one  half  the  consumers  are  in  that  state  of  drowsy,  blear-eyed 
unconsciousness  which  this  nauseous  stuff  produces.  Those  only 
who  have  drank  other  liquor,  as  well  as  lager^  betray  the  ordinary 
symptoms  of  drunkenness — for  some  hair-splitting  philosophers 
pretend  that  this  term  is  not  properly  applicable  to  the  stupid, 
sodden,  and  foul-smelling  effects  produced  by  lager.  These  are 
often  quarrelsome,  and  it  not  unfrequently  happens  that  a  fight 
occurs  before  the  performance  is  over.  In  such  cases,  the  doors 
are  quickly  closed,  to  keep  out  the  police  (hardly  a  necessary  pre¬ 
caution,  as  these  functionaries  seldom  interfere  until  the  fight  is 
G* 


66 


over),  and  the  belligerent  individuals  are  “  cleared  out  ”  by  the 
more  sober  Dutchmen,  with  knives  and  pistols.  Those  who  are 
too  drunk  to  move  without  assistance,  are  rolled  into  the  street, 
and  the  saloon  is  closed  for  the  night. 

The  “polka  cellar,”  or,  as  the  sign  reads,  “polka-kellar,”  is 
simply  another  variety  of  the  same  species  of  man-traps.  In 
these  places,  grisettes  are  employed  to  dance,  as  well  as  to  sell 
lager.  In  some  of  them,  a  stage  is  provided,  upon  which  semi¬ 
nude  females  display  their  charms  to  a  brutish  crowd  of  beer- 
swillers,  while  a  spavined  piano  in  one  comer  of  the  room  shrieks 
out  the  demoniac  strains  of  Yon  Weber,  and  other  freiheit-m^- 
dels.  In  others,  a  portion  of  the  room  is  appropriated  for  a 
dancing  hall,  where  all  who  enter  may  participate.  The  cost  of 
tliis  is  nothing,  the  sole  object  being  to  promote  the  sale  and  con¬ 
sumption  of  lager. 

There  is  still  another  variety  of  these  beer-persuaders,  though 
much  fewer  in  number,  and  mostly  in  obscure  localities,  which  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  “  model-artiste  ”  exhibition,  though 
dignified  by  a  different  name.  “Living  pictures,”  dZa  “Keller 
troupe,”  are  found  to  be  very  profitable  in  attracting  customers 
by  all  the  saloon-keepers  who  have  adopted  them.  The  “  artistes  ” 
engaged  for  this  purpose  belong  mostly  to  the  grisettes,  yet  not 
unfrequently  young  and  innocent  children  are  trained  for  the  pur¬ 
pose.  These  exhibitions,  however,  are  much  less  common  than 
those  of  which  we  have  previously  spoken. 

Nearly  every  block  in  the  city  has  one  or  more  of  the  “  free 
concert  ”  and  “polka ”  cellar  man-traps,  which,  in  addition  to  the 
attractions  of  uncommon  music,  are  baited  with  good-looking  and 
ill-looking  females,  who  dispense  smiles  and  smashes,  lustful  looks 
and  lager-bier  in  about  equal  proportions,  and  all  for  the  consider¬ 
ation  of  a  half-dime  per  glass.  In  these  places,  as  soon  as  evening 
sets  in,  scores  of  loafers,  gamblers,  pimps,  pick-pockets,  “fancy- 
men,”  young  bloods  and  bloods  not  so  young,  do  mainly  congre¬ 
gate,  drinking  liquor  which  they  do  not  like,  and  smoking  cigars 
which  would  make  a  chimney  sick  at  the  stomach,  to  have  some 
excuse  for  hanging  about,  some  to  find  victims,  and  others  to  ex¬ 
change  a  word  or  a  smile  now  and  then  with  doubtful  divinities  in 
crinoline.  Prom  the  reeking  theaters,  the  smoky  billiard-rooms. 


67 


and  slippery  bowling-alleys,  midnight  brings  crowds  of  customers 
of  every  variety,  from  the  accomplished  swindler  to  the  merest 
ambitious  tyro  who  has  robbed  his  master’s  till  to  cut  a  swell 
among  folks,  who  talk  balderdash,  and  soak  their  miserable  brains 
with  beer  till  they  are  ready  for  any  enterprise  of  infamy,  and 
sally  out  staggering  up  the  street,  to  tumble  senseless  and  swine¬ 
like  into  the  first  hole  that  opens  to  receive  them.  These  “free- 
concert  saloons,”  beside  the  positive  and  active  influences  they 
exert  in  brutalizing  and  debasing  the  minds  of  young  men,  are 
the  seminaries  of  every  species  of  vice — the  half-way  houses  be¬ 
tween  the  first-class  and  the  gutter,  the  honest  servant  and  the 
loathsome  cyprian.  Hidden  from  the  public  gaze,  and  removed 
from  the  hruit  of  the  street,  they  offer  an  inviting  resting-place 
where  young  men  not  quite  corrupted  are  furnished  with  every 
facility  for  stultifying  their  intellects,  brutalizing  their  tastes,  and 
inflaming  their  appetites.  They  are  the  most  dangerous  because 
the  least  ostentatious  of  pest-houses;  and  the  young  man  who 
commences  by  being  enticed  into  them,  is  pretty  sure  to  finish  his 
career  in  infamy  and  crime. 

Let  every  young  man,  be  he  stranger  or  resident  in  Chicago, 
avoid  these  places  as  he  would  avoid  that  pestilential  valley  where 
it  is  said  whoever  enters  comes  not  forth  with  life.  And  above 
all,  let  every  young  woman,  who  values  her  bodily  purity  and 
soul’s  salvation,  shun  the  inducements  held  out  to  entice  her  with¬ 
in  their  damning  influence,  as  she  would  shun  the  abode  of  the 
evil  one.  Far  better  is  it  to  beg — aye,  to  starve — in  virtuous  pov¬ 
erty,  than  to  risk  body  and  soul  in  these  half-way  houses  of  hell  I 

Still  more  damning  in  character,  but  not  more  dangerous  in  in¬ 
fluence,  are  the  masqiterades  which  every  winter  are  given  at  fre¬ 
quent  intervals  in  this  metropolis,  and  to  which  any  person,  upon 
paying  the  admission  fee,  is  admitted.  At  these  places,  disreput¬ 
able  men  and  wanton  women  congregate,  and  the  worst  characters 
in  the  city  may  be  found  mingling  in  the  voluptuous  mazes  of  the 
dance  with  dry-goods  clerks — whose  employers  have  complied 
with  the  “early-closing  movement”  to  give  them  some  time  for 
“  improving  their  minds  ” — with  fashionable  roues,  foolish  servant- 
girls,  and  careless  grisettes.  It  is  here  that  the  courtezan  and  the 
libertine  resort  to  make  new  dupes,  and  find  new  victims.  It  is 


68 


here,  also,  that  the  thief,  the  robber,  and  the  assassin  may  bo 
found,  ready  to  ply  their  trades  upon  any  favorable  opportunity. 

These  tal  masques  are  often  given  by  the  keepers  of  houses  of 
ill-fame,  in  connection  with  their  male  patrons,  for  the  sole  pur¬ 
pose  of  attracting  thereto  young  and  foolish  girls  with  the  view 
of  reducing  them  to  prostitution.  It  is  without  doubt  one  of  the 
principal  means  by  which  houses  of  this  character  are  replenished. 
Of  course,  the  entertainment  is  given  at  some  public  haU,  and  all 
the  appurtepances  are  placed  about  it  which  can  be,  to  conceal 
the  true  object  and  give  an  appearance  of  respectability. 

After  such  a  ball,  given  in  one  of  the  market  halls  owned  by 
the  city,  last  winter,  certain  parties  connected  with  its  manage¬ 
ment  were  arrested  upon  the  charge  of  attempting  to  reduce  to 
prostitution  the  daughter  of  a  city  officer.  The  evidence  showed 
that  the  girl,  sixteen  years  of  age,  had  been  allowed  to  associate 
with  a  grisette  of  doubtful  character,  who  persuaded  her  to  attend 
the  ball  without  obtaining  parental  consent,  and  afterward  the 
intended  seducers,  upon  the  pretext  of  a  sleigh-ride,  had  taken 
her  to  various  houses  of  ill-fame,  where  the  glitter  of  gaudy  finery, 
the  intoxication  of  wine,  and  the  converse  of  licentious  women 
might  have  their  desired  efiect.  The  result  was,  the  girl  was 
seduced.  She  abandoned  her  parents  and  chose  the  life  of  infamy, 
whose  end  is  perdition ;  but  with  the  authors  of  her  ruin  nothing 
could  be  done.  They  had  taken  too  good  care  to  conceal  their 
steps,  and  the  law  was  unable  to  trace  them. 

In  the  winter  of  1851,  a  young  man  from  the  interior  of  this 
state,  happening  to  be  in  the  city,  and  desirous  of  “  seeing  the 
sights,”  as  well  as  of  passing  away  an  evening,  took  it  into  his 
head  to  attend  a  &aZ  masque  which  was  given  that  evening  in  a 
well-known  hall.  He  had  never  attended  an  entertainment  of 
the  kind  before,  and  there  is  some  reason  to  believe  he  never  will 
attend  one  again.  Paying  his  initiation  fee  at  the  door,  he  was 
told  that  he  must  leave  his  arms,  if  he  carried  any,  with  the  door¬ 
keeper;  but  his  astonishment  at  the  information  plainly  indicated 
that  he  never  carried  any  arms,  save  those  which  nature  gave  him. 
He  was  allowed  to  enter.  Once  within  the  room,  his  astonishment 
was  increased  by  witnessing  the  “execrable  shapes”  which  pre¬ 
sented  themselves ;  for  the  dancers  wore  “  fancy  dresses  ”  as  well 


69 


as  masks.  Our  hero  had  neglected  to  provide  himself  with  either, 
wherefore  he  took  no  part  in  the  proceedings  until  he  saw  several 
other  men  who  wore  no  masks  lead  forth  winged  Psyches  and 
tight-legged  Arab  boys  to  the  dance.  Being  a  stranger,  and  sup¬ 
posing  the  others  to  be  citizens,  he  concluded  he  might  as  well 
take  part  as  they,  and  accordingly,  selecting  a  little  duck  of  a 
fairy,  with  dress  of  rather  gay  colors,  he  proceeded  to  solicit 
the  “honor”  of  her  presence  in  a  quadrille.  The  “honor”  was 
readily  conferred ;  the  music  and  the  dance  began.  Away  went 
the  countryman  and  the  fairy,  whirling,  promenading,  clasping 
each  other  in  unseemly  delight.  The  countryman  was  fascin¬ 
ated  ;  so  elegant,  so  free,  so  affectionate  a  fairy  it  had  never  been 
his  fortune  to  meet  with  before.  The  dance  ceased,  and  he  handed 
her  to  a  seat.  With  gracious  courtesy,  and  a  ^mile,  oh,  how 
sweet  1  she  partially  removed  the  enviable  mask,  giving  our 
countryman  a  view  of  features  “  all  divine” — that  is,  as  near  as 
he  could  then  judge.  Would  he  not  be  so  kind  as  to  bring  her  a 
glass  of  lemonade  from  the  refreshment  room?  What  gallant 
cavalier  would  fail  to  execute  with  all  prudent  celerity  a  com¬ 
mission  given  in  so  sweet  a  voice  as  that  which  fell  upon  the  sus¬ 
ceptible  tympanum-of  his  pleased  auricular  organ?  Our  coun¬ 
tryman  did  not.  He  hastened  to  the  refreshment  room  and 
ordered  the  lemonade.  He  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  for  the 
wherewith  to  pay  the  charge.  Consternation  and  horror — his 
pocket-book  was  gone !  Fortunately,  it  had  contained  only  two 
hundred  dollars.  He  bethought  him  of  his  watch — it  was  also 
gone !  Fortunately,  it  was  only  a  gold  one.  He  hastened  back 
to  where  he  left  the  fascinating  fairy — she  was  also  gone !  For¬ 
tunately,  he  could  not  find  her,  for  if  he  had,  most  likely  her 
“fancy-man”  would  have  given  him  a  merciless  beating.  In  a 
very  few  minutes  afterward  our  countryman  was  also  gone! 
Fortunately,  he  escaped  without  personal  injury. 

Sunday  amusements  form  a  distinctive  feature  in  Chicago, 
which  is  scarcely  found  in  any  other  Christian  city.  Among  the 
infidel  population,  the  day  of  rest  is  set  apart  and  exclusively 
devoted  to  dancing,  hunting,  sight-seeing,  beer-drinking,  theaters, 
concerts,  shows  and  amusements  of  every  sort.  On  this  day, 
the  concert-saloons,  polka-cellars,  and  “Yolks  gartens”  are  in 


70 


full  blast,  with  an  increase  of  patronage  over  any  other  day  of 
the  week.  These  performances,  however,  so  far  as  they  may  be 
distinguished  from  a  kind  of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  are 
not  particularly  dangerous,  except  in  the  light  of  religion  and 
morality,  to  which  they  stand  opposed  in  every  sense.  Drinking 
and  dancing,  promiscuous  love-making  and  worse,  constitute  the 
chief  occupations  of  those  who  attend  them. 

But  the  list  of  Chicago  amusements  would  be  incomplete  with¬ 
out  some  description  of  the  “pleasure  gardens,”  which  are  mostly 
situated  in  the  suburbs,  or  just  without  the  limits  of  the  city.  As 
a  specimen,  we  take  the  “  Yergnuegung’s  Garten”  at  Holstein,  a 
small  collection  of  cabbage-gardens,  hay-stacks,  barn-yards,  and 
lager-bier  shops,  about  three  and  a  half  miles  from  the  court¬ 
house.  It  is  a  celebrated  spot ;  let  us  not  underrate  its  import¬ 
ance.  The  soil  is  fertile.  The  principal  productions  are  cab¬ 
bages,  tow-headed  children,  and  a  singularly  unpleasant  smell, 
which  we  have  reason  to  beheve  proceeds  from  a  disagreeable 
slaughter-house  in  the  neighborhood.  Its  chief  imports  consist 
of  lager-bier,  and  its  exports  of  empty  lager-bier  barrels.  It  con¬ 
tains  a  dense  population  of  about  forty,  except  on  Sundays,  when 
the  number  is  augmented  by  immigration  to  about  four  thousand. 
On  these  days  Holstein  is  visited  semi-hourly  by  omnibus- 
drivers  bringing  large  loads  of  Teutonic  ladies  and  gentlemen, 
who  go  thither  to  fatigue  themselves  by  waltzing  and  assist  in  the 
consumption  of  enormous  quantities  of  lager,  under  the  mistaken 
belief  that  these  laborious  pursuits  constitute  pleasure. 

Wonder,  according  to  that  ancient  philosopher,  John  Went¬ 
worth,  is  a  faculty  which  affords  some  of  our  sublimest  enjoyments. 
By  it  our  veneration  is  often  increased,  rendering  us  more  capable 
of  rehgious  feelings.  The  first  thought  which  suggests  itself  to 
the  visitor  of  the  Holstein  “  Yergnuegung’s  Garten”  is,  “I  wonder 
why  the  devil  this  place  is  called  a  garden!”  He  looks  in  vain 
for  tree,  or  plant,  or  flower,  except  a  few  lonely  cotton- woods  that 
have  been  brought  into  requisition  as  hitching-posts,  and  are 
almost  dead  on  account  of  it.  He  sees  only  a  number  of  hay¬ 
stacks  in  the  distance,  a  stable  in  the  middle,  and  a  few  two-story 
booths,  in  the  rustic  style  of  architecture,  in  the  foreground. 
The  latter  stand  within  smelling  distance  of  a  kitchen,  and  are 


71 


obviously  a  kind  of  stomach-persuader  to  promote  the  consump¬ 
tion  of  lager. 

The  combined  exhalations  of  the  kitchen,  the  stable,  and  the 
slaughter-house,  render  breathing  an  exercise  of  great  unpleasant¬ 
ness.  A  friend  of  ours,  who  visited  the  garden,  assures  us  that 
he  ascertained  by  careful  analysis  that  every  breath  a  man  draws 
there  is  composed  as  follows : 


Lager, 

10  parts. 

Bologna  Sausage,  - 

.  .  7 

Sweitzer-casa,  - 

5 

U 

Limberger-casa, 

.  .  4 

(( 

Kitchen  effluvia. 

14 

u 

1101*80  manure. 

-  -  11 

u 

Slaughter-house, 

56 

u 

Pure  oxygen, 

.  .  1 

100 

Under  these  circumstances,  it  is  not  surprising  that  one  who 
has  been  accustomed  to  breathe  fresh  air  should  dislike  the  atmos¬ 
phere  of  the  place.  Before  leaving  it,  however,  let  us  glance  at 
the  lager  and  waltzing  departments.  The  first  is  a  large  room 
filled  with  tables  and  benches  for  the  accommodation  of  the  con¬ 
sumers  of  lager.  Lager  is  everywhere  apparent  to  the  five  senses. 
Lager  to  the  sight,  lager  to  the  taste,  lager  to  the  touch  (if  you 
liappen  to  sit  down),  lager  to  the  smell,  and  dn,  tswei  or  trei  lager 
perpetually  heard  from  numberless  Teutonic  tongues ;  miniature 
lakes  of  lager  cover  the  tables  and  benches ;  a  muddy  sea  of  lager 
rolls  its  billows  on  the  floor ;  while  behind  a  short  counter,  portly 
Gambrinus  stands,  the  lager- vending  Neptune  of  the  scene,  lifting 
high  his  trident — “trei  glass  lager!” 

After  drinking  fourteen  glasses  of  lager  and  two  dozen  schnitz 
(schnitz  is  lager),  we  concluded  to  see  the  dancing.  This  was 
going  on  in  a  room  from  which  two  doors  opened  into  the  lager 
department.  Through  one  door  a  stream  of  lager  went  in  among 
the  dancers,  and  through  the  other  a  stream  of  empty  glasses 
came  out  to  be  refilled.  The  arrangement  was  greatly  to  be  ad¬ 
mired.  Getting  into  the  stream  of  lager,  we  floated  into  the  room- 
and  there — 


72 

We  respectfully  decline  giving  a  description  of  the  heart-rend¬ 
ing  scene,  and  close  this  chapter  by  advising  all  moral  young  men 
to  keep  away  from  the  Sunday  pleasure  gardens. 


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AUTHOR  ^ 

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TITLE 

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